Birthday Surprises
by ThirdCharm01
Summary: MN. This is a series of stories that all started with this challenge: Marcus receives sex toys as a gift from either Susan or Michael for his birthday. It started as a oneshot deal but just seams to keep growing whenever the bunnies bite.
1. Chapter 1

Title: 101 Reasons to Hate Birthday Parties, 1 Reason to Love Them

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romance

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is an answer to the Jason Carted Birthday Challenge. Challenge #2: Marcus receives sex toys as a gift from either Susan or Michael for his birthday.

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations.

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101 Reasons to Hate Birthday Parties, 1 Reason to Love Them

How? Marcus just wanted to know how this disaster had started. He was positive he had buried any and all personal information so deep that a team of IT Indiana Joneses wouldn't be able to find ANY it for a century. Just how had the command staff found out that it was his birthday?

"Oh, just bloody great!" Marcus moaned to himself as he watched the flaming monstrosity approach his bed.

The EVIL TRIO who planned this mess even had a cake! Oh, how he hated these things, what with the horrible singing, the annoying jokes, (they were only good if he was the instrument of the torture – NOT when he was the recipient of said torture) and all the fuss. Simply put, Marcus was in hell - and there was absolutely no avenue of escape!

Here he was, still stuck in medlab, wearing nothing but a damned hospital gown, a sheet and a truly humiliating party hat that Susan had stuck on his head while his so-called friends reveled in his humiliation! And, oh, how absolutely, bloody lovely! The idiots masquerading as Babylon Five Command Officers were now singing "Happy Birthday". He truly was stuck in the middle of this crowd of supposed friends until they decided that he had been tortured enough.

And to insult to injury, the bloody bastards had invited the off duty _Anla'Shok _(Ranger)and the ISA War Council. Now everyone on the station would be privy to his humiliation! And if that wasn't enough, the newly elected Warror Caste_ Shai Alyt_ (Caste Leader) was here as a guest of Delenn. Oooh! That damned smug bastard! Marcus just knew that Neroon was laughing at him behind that oh so superior look.

"Come on Cole, blow out the candles!" yelled a laughing Garibaldi.

"Yeah, make your wish and blow out the candles!" added Ivanova.

Marcus glared at them. If looks could kill, the Security Chief and the Station's XO would have been ash.

"Come on Cole, I broke all of my own rules for medlab to make this happen, at least pretend that you are having a good time," said the Doctor.

Marcus sighed. Well, if he played along, he might get the mob to leave faster. He closed his eyes and made the same futile wish he made every year. Marcus took a breath and blew out the candles to the cheers of the crowd. The cake was then cut. Everyone got a piece, even Marcus. Marcus just raised an eyebrow in Franklin's direction.

"Well Marcus, since you've been such a good patient..." the Doctor was cut off by snickers, "As I was saying, since you have been such a good patient, this is your first gift from me, the second you get after everyone else has given theirs."

"And speaking of presents, I'll start the process, that way Delenn and I can get into a relatively safe corner before you get mobbed," Sheridan said as he handed over a packet wrapped in foil.

Marcus took the package with a smirk on his face. "You're all heart, Captain. Thanks for standing between me and the Huns!" he replied sarcastically.

Sheridan snorted and Delenn laughed at the comment as they moved out of the way while

Marcus opened the package, and was stunned speechless. Inside was a real, honest to God book. It was a leather bound and very well-preserved copy of "_Morte D'Arthur_".

"Read the cards out loud Marcus," came from Susan.

Marcus took out the card and read:

"_Marcus, _

_We wish to thank you for all you have done for the Anla'Shok and for us. Since you seem to be the Station's Lancelot, our very own Gwenaviere and I decided to track this down for you. _

_Happy Birthday Marcus, _

_John and Delenn. _

_P.S. Just remember, you do the Lancelot thing for others. Get involved in MY Camelot, and you'll find out why the Min'aia Den'shok (Warrior Caste) call me "StarKiller". I sure as hell ain't no Arthur!"_

Marcus blushed and sputtered as he finished reading the card. He finally stammered out a thank you. Every one laughed, well at least all the Humans did, the aliens just looked puzzled. Then someone began to tell the story of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Well, someone told the short, short, version anyway. After the end of the tale, Neroon snorted, looked over to Sheridan, and bowed his head in an acknowledgment. Sheridan nodded his head in return, while dodging a swat from Delenn, who was muttering about how the Rangers were much better behaved than that and how dare he suggest, even in jest, that she could EVER act like such a hussy!

After that, there were gifts and ribald cards from Vir and Londo, who both got him some expensive, and probably contraband, liqueurs. There was a ceremonial dagger and a tersely worded well wish from G'Kar. Lyta gave him a meditation crystal and said it was from both her and Kosh. There was a gag gift of extra bandages and first aid supplies from of all people, an evilly grinning Lennier. The card read simply read, _"So you aren't in medlab so much."_ It was met with roars of approval and an embrace to a stunned Lennier from the Doctor.

The Rangers had all pitched in and got Marcus a spare field survival kit. Marcus was touched the most by this gift. It meant that at least some people cared as to whether he lived or died. It could save his life one day. He bowed to his fellow Rangers as well as he could from the hospital bed.

"_Su'nahan ah' mal'ier_ (Thank you my brother)," Marcus said to the Ranger who had present the gift to him. He and the others bowed back, the Humans had smiles on and the Minbari looked smug. Well, when didn't they?

"Alright, only two more to go. Here, take ours first," Garibaldi said as he handed over a large, colorfully wrapped box.

Marcus was immediately on his guard. He knew this wouldn't be good, judging from the looks on Ivanova's and Garibaldi's faces. With another glance at Susan Marcus was POSITIVE that he wouldn't like this at all!

"Well come on, open it!" urged Susan, grinning like a mad hatter.

Marcus stalled and took out the card first. He read:

"_To our favorite P.I.T.A,_

_It is our hope that if your frustrations are eased, then you'll be less of a frustration to us. _

_Enjoy!_

_Michael and Susan"_

After the laughing over the card, Marcus took a deep breath and unwrapped and opened the box. He got the shock of his life. Inside there seemed to be the entire inventory of an S&M toy store; cock rings, vibrators, plugs, gags, cuffs and more. Marcus was blushing furiously as he slammed the lid down. Hard. He looked up and saw his two friends holding on to each other and laughing so hard that tears were flowing down their faces.

"Your face! We should have brought the camera!" wheezed out a laughing and gasping Garibaldi. He and Ivanova laughed even louder at seeing the puzzled expressions on the faces of the other guests.

Marcus's expression and voice became deadly. "One word, one syllable of a word, as to what is in that box and I will make your lives a living HELL!"

Seeing that they had humiliated Marcus, and in a bad way, his two friends became very serious. "Hey, Marcus we didn't mean anything by it. It was only a joke, okay?" Michael apologized. "Here, I'll take it and get rid of it."

Marcus forced himself to calm down. He handed the box over and told them that he forgave them. Then he admonished them not to do anything like that again and to never speak of it to anyone! Garibaldi took the box and made his way to the exit. Neroon stopped him at the door. It seemed that the Warrior wanted to ask something of the Chief. Marcus couldn't make out any of their conversation since Susan had distracted him as she apologized as well.

"Well, that just leaves my last gift," said Franklin as he tried to lighten the mood. With a flourish, he brought out Marcus's release forms.

Marcus immediately brightened up. "Steven, that is the best present I could get today. Can I leave now?"

Seven nodded and turned his attention to the guests. "Alright people, you heard him, the man wants out! That means he needs privacy to dress, so shoo!" the Doctor ordered the crowd, to the disappointment and catcalls of some of the departing female Rangers. Everyone else left with well wish to Marcus.

Once he was alone, and behind the drawn screen, Marcus dressed as quickly as possible. He wanted out of medlab. He wanted to go back to his quarters and be miserable in peace. God, how he hated his birthday! And once again, he had been forced to pretend to be happy to please a crowd. Once he was dressed, he loaded his gifts into his new kit, grabbed his release papers, and left with a flip farewell to the Doctor, who did "flip" him off.

Outside, the medlab Marcus was again shocked. Neroon was standing alone in the corridor. It looked as if he had been waiting for Marcus.

"_Shai Alyt_," Marcus said and bowed.

"_Anla'Shok_ Cole. I wish to extend my felicitations on this anniversary of your natal day," Neroon intoned formally.

"Thank you, _Shai Alyt_," Marcus replied just as formally.

"Please, call me Neroon. You have earned the right. May I walk with you to your destination?" asked Neroon.

"Um, yes of course, Neroon. I'm just returning to my quarters," the Ranger replied.

They began walking together and chatting about the Rangers, the Warrior Caste and the Station. They shared political insights and gossip about shared acquaintances. Marcus found that this conversation was more enjoyable than the rest of his day had been. He was a little disappointed when they reached his quarters. He found that he didn't want to be alone now.

"Thank you for your thoughts and your conversation Neroon. I bid you farewell," Marcus said.

"Marcus, I find our conversation most stimulating. I do not wish to see it end just yet. Perhaps, you could drop off your belongings and join me for evening meal at my quarters?" Neroon asked.

"That sounds wonderful. I really wasn't looking forward to eating alone," Marcus said as he opened the door and walked in.

As Marcus put his things away, Neroon looked around. By, Valen! Marcus lived a more Spartan life than even the most devout of the Religious Caste! There were no mementos, no stills, nothing to show who lived here. What could have made the Ranger disconnect from life so strongly? The Ranger in question pulled Neroon from his thoughts.

"Well, that's done. Shall we leave?" Marcus asked.

"Yes, of course," Neroon answered as they left and began the journey to Neroon's diplomatic quarters. "You did not seem to enjoy the celebration," Neroon stated as they walked.

"Yes, well, I see those bloody things as excuses that your friends use in order to torture you in public. I even have a list of them. It's called the "101 Reasons to Hate Birthday Parties" list," Marcus answered dryly.

Nerron laughed. "So I see. Tell me, what is the reason that Humans celebrate the anniversary of a person's natal day?"

"We call it a "birthday". I think that the tradition started in the far past. You see, before the advent of modern medicine, most children born did not survive past their first year of life. Many women died in childbed as well. Every year the child lived was seen by the family as another victory over death, hence the celebration of it," Marcus answered.

"Ah, and the pastry and candles?" Neroon inquired further.

"The cake represents the sweetness that the family and guests wish to bring to the individual's life in the coming year. The candles represent the years that a person has lived. There is supposed to be one for each year, but the older you are, the harder that is. We "older folks" use one candle to represent a certain number of years. We mostly use one candle for one year for children. As for the blowing out of the candles, well there is an old Earth legend. It says that if the person who is the celebrant of the birthday, makes a wish and then blows out all the candles in one breath, the wish will come true," Marcus said as he finished his explanation of Human birthday celebrations.

"I believe that I understand now. May I ask what you have wished for, Marcus?" Neroon asked.

Marcus smiled sadly. "Ah, there is another part to the legend. If you tell anyone what you wished for, it will not come true."

"Then I shall not inquire further," Neroon said as they reached his quarters.

Neroon opened the door and ushered Marcus in. The _Shai Alyt _had been given the standard V.I.P. quarters set aside for visiting dignitaries. Marcus looked around and spotted the already set Minbari table.

"Ah, I see that my staff has already laid out evening meal. Shall we dine?" asked Neroon.

"Yes, please. I am looking forward to a meal that hasn't been murdered by the medlab staff!" answered Marcus. As the Ranger and the Warrior sat down to the meal, Marcus found that the table bore most of his favorite Minbari foods. "I see that we have similar tastes in cuisine," he said in surprise.

Again to Marcus's surprise, Neroon looked a bit sheepish at that statement. "I have a bit of a confession to make Marcus. You see; I wished to give you a gift for this day as well. I had my staff find out what foods you favored, and had them prepared for this meal," the Warrior softly stated.

"Oh, um, thank you for the thought and this lovely meal. But what would you have done had I not accepted your invitation?" Marcus asked; a bit flustered.

"I would have had it sent to your quarters with a card stating that it was my gift to you," answered Neroon.

Marcus was floored. He knew Minbari customs rather well. To send a gift of such magnitude openly meant only one thing to the Minbari. It was meant as an opening to courtship. Marcus looked up at Neroon with a stunned and somewhat confused expression.

"Neroon…" Marcus couldn't finish the thought let alone the sentence.

"Yes, Marcus. I mean exactly that. I wish to court you. Do you accept my offer of courtship?" Neroon asked formally.

"I, … how, … but, but why?" Marcus stuttered out.

"Do you know how the _Min'aia Den'shok_ find their mates?" asked Neroon

Marcus, still unable to speak coherently, shook his head no.

"We are like most other Minbari in that our souls call to another's, but what sets us apart is that many times our souls connect to our mates' souls during the heat of battle. We believe it is because a Warrior cannot mask who they truly are when they fight for their life," Neroon gently explained.

"Marcus, when we fought _den'shah _(a duel to the death), my soul connected to yours. In your eyes, I saw my other half. I saw that which was missing from my heart and my soul. And may Valen forgive me, I almost destroyed it," the Warrior paused to take a steadying breath before going on, "I have meditated on this greatly on this subject and now know that I wish to court you with my final intent being marriage," Neroon finished in a soft and somewhat nervous voice.

"I… I don't know what to say," said a dumfounded Marcus after he finally found his voice.

"Say yes, Neroon pressed.

"I … I … Can we eat first?" Marcus blurted out, confused and embarrassed.

"If you wish," answered an amused Neroon.

They ate. It was awkward at first. Each man tried to start a stilted conversation while pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room. All the attempts were dismal failures. Finally, in desperation, Neroon made a comment about needing to meet with Shakiri when he returned to Minbar. Oh, and could he by any chance borrow some of that Human invention called "duct tape"? It may be needed to shut the Wind Sword up. The tension broke and Marcus laughed until his sides hurt. The meal progressed in a much more relaxed atmosphere after that.

As they finished dessert, Marcus gathered the courage and wits to broach the subject. "Neroon, I find that I enjoy your company. You make me laugh and I don't need to have the mask of the jolly, polite and friendly Ranger on around you. You make me feel comfortable, but that does not mean that I can develop romantic feelings toward you. To be honest, I've never been attracted to males of any species. Now, that doesn't mean that I would cherish a friendship with you. I have very few true friends and would be very honored if I could you among that number, " Marcus finished a bit nervously, hoping that he hadn't just insulted one of the most powerful political and military figures of the Federation.

At the Rangers words, Neroon looked thoughtfully at Marcus. After a time, Neroon finally reached across the table for the Ranger's hand. He gently covered Marcus's slim hand with his own larger one.

"May I?" the Warrior gently asked.

Marcus's eyes grew large. For a Minbari to ask another to hold their hand was akin to a Human asking for a kiss. He bit his lip nervously, wondering how to handle this escalating situation. Finally after a bit of thought, he nodded yes, hoping that is was just a Minbari "goodbye kiss" and he'd make it out of the Warrior's quarters with no harm or foul.

Neroon gently picked up his hand and turned it palm up. While one hand cradled Marcus's, Neroon brought the other over to cover it. Then, Neroon looked deeply into his eyes, and slowly drew his fingers down Marcus's open hand in a caress. Marcus shivered and gasped at the touch and was completely surprised at both the sensation and his reaction to it.

"By Valen, I was right. Marcus you do not see what is before you because you are unawakened," Neroon stated. His voice was a little awed.

Marcus blushed, knowing that Neroon referred to his virgin state. "How, how did you know?" he whispered.

"By your quarters, they speak of a man who has kept himself locked away from others, by your reaction to such a simple caress. Marcus, have you even indulged in the Human version of this, the act called kissing?" Neroon gently asked as he again caressed Marcus's open hand.

"A bit," Marcus stammered out, still shivering from what Neroon was doing to his hand. Valen, having your palm touched shouldn't feel that good!

Neroon looked at Marcus with gentle, loving eyes. "We are both Warriors. To know that you had the strength to wait until your soul was called to while I indulged foolishly, it humbles me. It shows that you are the stronger one of us. I ask for your forgiveness for those past actions."

"There is nothing to forgive. We did not know each other then, nor is it my place to judge you," Marcus answered, still blushing.

"_A'fel E', Marcus_ (I love you, Marcus). _A me'lirla E' (_I cherish you)." Neroon said as he stood up. "I would like to give you another gift tonight," Neroon smiled gently down at Marcus. "To be precise, it is a gift I would ask of you. Would you let me lead you through the rituals of _Li'ransa _(sexual awakening) tonight?" Neroon asked as he extended a hand to the still blushing Ranger.

Marcus looked at Neroon's extended hand, then up to his expressive eyes. He saw only love and respect there. It hit him then, a sense of peace, a feeling of warmth, as if all was right in the universe. Looking into Neroon's eyes, Marcus felt as if he had finally come home. It felt as if something long missing had finally been found and had slid into place in his soul. It felt as if the soul wrenching loneliness that had been with him since the destruction of Arisia had finally been lifted. He made his decision then. Marcus took Neroon's offered hand and stood up.

Marcus blushed again. "_Vi'is, ah' ma'fela na, _(Yes, my first lover,)" he whispered nervously.

Neroon let out a breath he did not know he was holding. "And only,_ Zha'aia_ (one heart). _Zha'aia de'sher_ (one heart, forever)," Neroon answered and led them to the sleeping chamber.

Marcus looked at the bed, a Human style one, and shot a surprised look at the Warrior.

"Yes, well, there was a, how do you Humans say, "a mix up" with the quarters. These were the only ones left open when I arrived. Now, it seems fortuitous," at Marcus's inquisitive look, he continued, " It will help you, _ma'fela_, in the rituals, if you are in more familiar surroundings."

Marcus blushed again. Valen, at this rate he'll be scarlet for the rest of his life! He glanced at the bed again and began to tremble in trepidation. The full impact of his rash decision hit him like a ton of bricks at that moment. Oh, Valen! What had he just agreed to?!

Nor could he back out of it now. Marcus knew enough about Minbari culture to know that that was just NOT done! Oh, Lord! What was he going to do? Neroon was a man, Minbari and a Warrior to boot! Minbari didn't engage a "friendly experimentation". Physical intimacy was an extremely serious matter to them. Then there was the fact that he knew nothing about the subject from a Minbari aspect. Just what would Neroon expect of him?

"Neroon, I don't know what to do, where to even start. All my other experiences, and rather limited experiences at that, were all with Human females," Marcus whispered out, barely able to get the words past his suddenly dry lips.

"Be at ease, beloved. As you have accepted my offer it is my honor to guide you this night," Neroon replied. When Marcus said nothing, but continued to blush and stare at the bed, he stepped toward him.

"Easy now, my One. We must all start somewhere. There much that I need to learn tonight as well," Neroon said softly, comfortingly as he took Marcus into his arms.

He stroked Marcus hair, murmuring about its texture resembling the finest of silk, trying to put the younger man at ease and succeeding. Marcus's unabashed pleasure in such a simple touch made Neroon wondered at his own selfishness, ignorance, stupidity and unintended cruelty in the past before he firmly shut the door on that train of thought. The war and all it entailed were just that, in the past, and he and this bold and beautiful Human called Marcus were here in the present, and Marcus was all that mattered in this point in time.

Gently, Neroon touched his forehead to Marcus's, a truly intimate touch for the Minbari. "We can start the rituals of _Fal othla'cha_ (foreplay) by you teaching me how to kiss," he suggested.

And so they kissed. Gently, tentatively at first, then with passion as time progressed. Neroon was a quick study. Soon, he took control of the kisses, and proceeded to trace and explore every delicate bit of Marcus's lips and mouth. When they were done, both men were breathing raggedly and very aroused.

"I had never thought such an act could be so pleasurable," Neroon rasped out as he caressed Marcus's bearded cheek.

"Kissing has never felt so good before," Marcus said, his eyes glazed and voice just as ragged.

"Do you wish to continue?" asked Neroon as he began to caress Marcus's arms.

"_Vi'is,"_ Marcus rasped out.

"May I undress you?" Neroon asked.

Marcus nodded, and asked the same of Neroon, who nodded as well. They slowly began to remove each other's uniforms. Cloaks and tunics went first. Finally, each caressed the other's bare skin. Neroon was enthralled with the hair on Marcus. He ran his fingers across Marcus's firm chest, and was rewarded with gasps as he touched his nipples.

"We are not so different then," Neroon whispered. He continued to caress Marcus and reveled in his unrestrained response. "_Ker'Shan_ (Beautiful.)"

Marcus moaned and trembled at each touch. When Neroon dipped his head and took one of his nipples in his mouth, Marcus's knees practically gave out. Sensing that his young lover was overwhelmed, Neroon guided Marcus to the bed. Slowly, so as not to loose contact with each other, they sank down onto it and continued to explore each other. After a time, they broke apart. They lay on the bed, still facing each other, and tried to catch their breath again. As soon as their hearts stopped racing Neroon gathered Marcus close again.

"I want to see you, beloved. May I remove the rest?" Neroon softly whispered in Marcus's ear.

Marcus nodded and sat up, wanting to remove his boots. Neroon was quicker. He knelt down beside the bed and removed them for Marcus, along with his socks. Somehow, he had toed of his own in the process. As his hands traveled to the waistband of Marcus's trousers, Neroon noticed that the Human he loved so much had become very nervous again. He changed his mind as to how to proceed. Neroon stood up and undressed completely. He stood still; proud of his body and wanting Marcus to see just how much he affected him.

Marcus's eyes traveled across the strong body the Warrior had bared for him. He blushed scarlet when his eyes reached Neroon's very impressive arousal. Marcus quickly dropped his eyes. He was curious and wanted to explore more of Neroon, but all of a sudden, Marcus knew exactly what those virgin Victorian brides had felt like.

Neroon saw Marcus's dilemma, and gently smiled. He sat next to the Human. "Marcus, look at me. I want you to know me, to see me. To see what your love and the response of your body does to me."

Curiosity, modesty and need warred within Marcus at Neroon's words. Need and curiosity finally won out. Marcus again looked at his lover's body, this time avidly perusing Neroon's arousal.

"Can I…?" he nervously whispered, unable to finish the question.

"Yes, touch me, my love. Explore and get to know the body that will show you physical love," Neroon purred as he took Marcus's hands and laid them on his hard thighs.

Marcus did as he was told, exploring everywhere. He followed Neroon's gentle instructions as to how to caress his body. He loved the little hisses and gasps he pulled from his lover. When Marcus touched the base of Neroon's bonecrest where it met his neck, Neroon moaned. When Marcus ran his hand down Neroon's spine, the Warrior growled, and when Marcus built up the courage to measure Neroon's arousal with his hands, Neroon swore.

Marcus then quickly found himself flat on his back with a fiercely aroused Minbari Warrior covering him. Neroon kissed Marcus passionately as his hands roamed everywhere, their bodies rubbing together. Marcus's trousers and boxers disappeared. Neroon's hands found Marcus's erection and stroked it. The Warrior wanted to inflame his love's passion until it burned away all the nervousness and modesty, and it worked. Marcus began to arch into Neroon's caresses, hips thrusting into his strokes. Finally, finally, Marcus was moaning and writhing beneath him without restraint!

"_Su'rahan. Su'rahan, ah' ma'fela. Kaszha'hak_... (Please. Please, my lover. Make love...)" Marcus never finished the sentence he'd moaned out. Neroon's mouth descended on his again with a fury.

"You need not beg, _ma'fela. A' li'ran nehan E', zha' aia_ (I want to give you pleasure, one heart)," Neroon said as he began to position Marcus.

The Warrior spread Marcus's legs apart and lay between them, lining up their erections. Then Neroon began to move, thrusting gently. Marcus moaned at the friction and the feel of Neroon's arousal rubbing against his own. He grasped the Warrior's shoulders as his own hips began to move in counterpoint. Soon, their movements grew more rapid, more passionate, and the air filled with their cries and rasped out endearments. Finally, they spiraled to completion together. The experience was so overwhelming for Marcus that he didn't even notice when an almost equally exhausted Neroon briefly left him in order to clean them both up.

Afterwards, they recovered, lying in each other's arms. As Marcus came back to reality, a thought occurred to him. "Neroon, why…?"

He was cut off by a gentle kiss. "Beloved, to my Caste, the ritual of _Li'ransa_ is even more sacred than the _Shan' Fal_. (Pleasure Ritual) I wished to give you the gift of _Lenore Na_ (first climax) this night. All else may wait until the _Shan' Fal_. Full consummation will wait until we are bonded."

"You are pretty sure of your self aren't you?" Marcus teased with a smile.

"Can you say, after this, that you do not wish to wed?" Neroon asked, a smile on his lips as well.

Marcus chuckled. "You know me too well. Yes, Neroon, I will marry you." Marcus snuggled back into Neroon's arms, when another thought occurred to him. "Neroon, what did you say to Michael at the party?"

The Warrior groaned. "I had hoped that you had missed that conversation. Well, I see that I have another confession to make, _ma'fela_. I had, quite by accident, found out about the little "surprise" that those to two idiots you call friends had planned for you. When the Chief was leaving to dispose of the "evidence", I stopped him to explain as to why I thought your reaction was so virulent. Mr. Garibaldi seemed truly repentant of his actions when he heard my explanation. I also asked that he not dispose of the box. After all beloved, such implements of pleasure may come in useful during the Human ritual of the "honeymoon"," Neroon finished with a leer.

Marcus starred at his new fiancé, dumbfounded. Finally he began to laugh. Marcus laughed for a long time. When he recovered, Marcus spoke again.

"Neroon, I think my wish came true today. I always wished for someone who could love me for me; quirky sense of humor and all. I see that I've gotten a Warrior with an equally quirky sense of humor. I also found my one reason to love birthdays; you," Marcus finished with a kiss and snuggled back into his soul mate's arms.

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

Title: What Telling Birthday Wishes Brings

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel to my answer to the Jason Carter Birthday Challenge. Challenge #2: Marcus receives sex toys as a gift from either Susan or Michael for his birthday. Now, THERE IS ALWAYS A MORNING AFTER FOLKS!

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations.

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What Telling Birthday Wishes Brings

Neroon lay propped on the mountain of pillows that he had slept on since being given these quarters. As was his habit, the _Shai Alyt_ had awoken early. Marcus was snuggled against his side, his head resting on Neroon's shoulder. Marcus still slept peacefully and the Warrior was loath to wake him. Neroon gazed down at the face of his sleeping lover. Such innocence Marcus had in his sleep, such peace. His _ma'fela_ slept in the peace of the just. His _ma'fela_, just thinking those words brought such warmth to his soul. Neroon could still not believe that Marcus had agreed to his proposal last evening, to both of his proposals.

Last evening, over a celebratory "birthday" evening meal, the _Anla'Shok_ Champion had accepted Neroon's formal offer of courtship. That had made the Minbari _Shai Alyt_ unbelievably happy. What had come to him as a gift from Valen, was Marcus's acceptance of Neroon's offer to lead him through the rituals of _Li'ransa_. When Neroon had confirmed his suspicions that Marcus was as yet unawakened, some inner voice had made him ask Marcus for the honor of being his first. Marcus had agreed.

That had led to the most profound experience of Neroon's life. Marcus had reacted to every caress, to every new experience with such wonder! Simply remembering Marcus's unguarded responses made him shiver in renewed need. Neroon was looking forward to their _Shan' Fal_ with an intensity had had not thought possible. By Valen! It would take all of his self-control to proceed through the proper rituals of courtship without skipping to the end, NOW! Neroon found himself wondering just how much he could speed up the process without having himself be labeled an "aging libertine" and Marcus labeled, well, "fast" as the Humans said.

He did not need to have the Warrior Caste to start the barracks rumors that they were so fond of with his soul mate and himself as the key figures in the stories. Neroon ruefully shook his head, remembering his own turn at spreading such tales. He remembered being a brash young Warrior, fresh out of the training salles, and speculating about his Clan Leader's relationship with his lovely young aide. The things that had been bandied about! Why, Shannora must have reached her position with skills other than those learned in the training salles. And the Clan Leader; wasn't he even ashamed of himself? All he saw was the delicacy of his aide's Crest. _Alyt_ Brenal never kept his mind on Caste affairs anymore. Had he not seen two _malas _(spouses) to the veil already? Why, there were at least forty cycles separating their ages! There, of course, had never been anything between the two that were so much speculated about.

Valen, he was ashamed of his disrespectful mouth! Had Brenal not gone to the sea already, he would have gone to him and made the most profuse apologies that a Warrior could. Neroon chuckled at the thought. The wily old _gok_ (Minbari feline) would have probably told him, "See how you like it!" and then spread some rumors of his own about Neroon and his love.

Now Neroon found himself in his old Clan Leader's boots. Again, there were at least forty cycles separating his and Marcus's ages. And this time, there definitely was something between the two of them. Valen, Neroon knew he should be ashamed of himself. He should have waited for the courtship to proceed at the proper pace. He should have brought Marcus to the rituals of_ Li'ransa _through proper, and chaperoned, shared communication and meditation. He had practically taken advantage of an innocent last night! But, somehow, all he felt was pride at knowing that it was he who had given Marcus the gift of _Lenore Na_; that Marcus had chosen him to lead him to his first shared climax.

Neroon again looked down into the sleeping face of his soul mate. Marcus seemed so young, so innocent, too young and innocent to have seen so many horrors. Any so many of them laid at his Marcus's feet by his own race. How could the Humans think one so young as fully adult? When Neroon and the rest of the Caste had found out the median age of the Human Warriors during the Earth-Minbari War had been only thirteen cycles, they had gone through agonies of shame. They had been killing children en mass!

Then, to learn of _Id'Minbari_, (Minbari-souled humans) well it was not to be borne! It could not be true. The Caste was too honorable, the Council too wise, their War Leaders infallible for such a mistake to be made. So it was simply not true. The Humans must have lied about the attack on the Council's ship being a mechanical failure coupled with fear-induced error on the part of the gunner. The Humans also must have spread lies of gigantic proportions to have the Council believe in_ Id'Minbari_. Therefore, the Caste would not back the Council completely in matters dealing with the Humans. That had led to the Caste opposing Delenn, and the situation had spiraled to the point where Neroon had found himself facing a young Human _Anla'Shok_ in _den'shah_, the very one now laying in repose so trustingly in his arms.

This Human, this young Human who knew he would die in the Challenge, had refused to back down. Marcus had fought until he couldn't stand. Then at the end, lying there with his body broken, and in a pool of his own blood, Marcus had calmly looked up the _denn'bok_ aimed to strike the final blow, and told Neroon that he died for Delenn. Marcus then called on Valen with what he thought would be his final breath. At that moment Neroon finally understood the truth of _Id'Minbari_. Humans were being born with Minbari souls. And he had almost murdered one of them. May Valen forgive him, and the rest of the Caste, how many of their re-born brethren had they murdered during the war?

And it had been murder. The Humans' technology was a thousand Earth years behind the Minbaris'. They had been outnumbered, out classed and out gunned. They had died by the tens of millions, and yet they had kept on fighting. No matter how dire, how terrible their plight, the Human Warriors had never run. EarthForce had stood its ground until their lines had been completely smashed, giving the civilians behind them time to evacuate.

A war that had been predicted to last only months had lasted years. The tenacity of the Humans had astounded the Warrior Caste. They fought against a technologically, numerically, and physically stronger enemy with everything they had; grit, determination, suicidal fury, every dirty trick ever seen, and some invented on the spot. They used everything they had to their advantage. Including their blind luck. EarthForce had made every inch gained against them more costly and painful than any enemy the Caste had faced in almost one thousand cycles. That should have earned the Humans respect for from the Minbari Warriors, instead it had earned them scorn. How dare these insects believe they could actually fight, and sometimes win, against the best military in known space! Valen, how arrogant, how vicious, the Caste had been!

Neroon was pulled from his guilt-laden thoughts by the door chime to his quarters going off. Marcus stirred slightly but still did not wake. Neroon slowly extricated himself from his _ma'fela's _embrace so as not to wake him. He hurriedly donned a bed robe and went to answer the door. The Warrior began to softly swear as the chime sounded again. He reached the door and answered it in a foul mood. At his doorstep stood his most trusted aide, Martag.

"_Shai Alyt_, I am sorry to disturb… " his aide began in a voice that was too loud in Neroon's opinion.

Therefore, Neroon cut him off quietly and quickly, "Lower your voice now, my friend."

Martag saw his oldest friend's and superior's agitation and took a look around the quarters. Aha! Neroon had been entertaining last night, and by the state of his half-open bed robe and the need for a lower volume, it seemed that he was still, ahem, "entertaining".

Martag knew that Neroon, like many Warriors, would sometimes find a "nameless" liaison for an evening's entertainment. After the evening ended, all names were forgotten. It was mutual amnesia. For all intents and purposes, it never happened. Well, it never happened as long as no one found evidence of it. Neroon's new liaison must still be asleep. Now that was odd. Neroon never let his liaisons stay the night. It was too dangerous to his position.

_"Well, this should be interesting to say the least!"_ Martag thought to himself before starting to tease his oldest friend. "Neroon, should I be leaving? Leaving blind, and pretending I was never here?" asked Martag, with a conspiratorial leer.

"Martag! Get your mind out of the sewers. Last night was a most honorable endeavor. Last evening, after a celebratory evening meal marking his natal day - ah, that is an ancient Human custom - _Anla'Shok_ Cole had accepted my offer of courtship," Neroon huffed; affronted at the turn he knew his friend's thoughts had taken.

Martag was stunned. He had not known that the relationship between the Ranger and the _Shai Alyt_ had turned so serious. He had not known that the relationship had even existed! Or had it? Hmm, if his thoughts were correct, then Neroon had to be the fastest operator in the Caste! By the Grace of Valeria, how was he supposed to keep this from becoming a scandal of epic proportions?! From presentation of suit to bedding in one night! Oh, Valen help him!

"Neroon, are you insane?! What if the Caste found out about this? Oh, Valen! What if the other Castes find out about this? You need to be preserving the honor of the Caste, NOT bedding your intended the minute he accepts your suit! No one on Minbar will care that Humans are much more lax in such things! You will be held to blame. You should have just sent him on his way when he got out of hand, not succumbed like some – some Centauri tart!" Martag ranted in a whispering voice.

"NEVER, AND I MEAN NEVER AGAIN, impugn Marcus's honor! If I ever hear it, or of it, it will be _den'shah_ between us!" Neroon raged in an equally quiet but much more deadly tone.

Martag was astounded by the vehemence of Neroon's words. To place a standing Challenge to _den'shah_! Neroon must truly love the Ranger.

"I am sorry my friend, I did not mean such things. Please say you did not hear my words," Martag apologized, bowing his head.

Neroon sighed. "No, I did not hear your words my friend, as I hope you did not hear mine," When Martag inclined his head in agreement he went on, "Martag, I speak to you in confidence. Last evening, such a wondrous event occurred. While we spoke of our courtship, Marcus also consented to performing the rituals of _Li'ransa _with me as his guide."

Well, this morning was one shock right after another! "Neroon…?" Valen, how do you ask a friend if he had overstepped propriety more than he already had?

"_Lenore Na_ only, my friend. And, if you must know, Humans consider such things extremely personal. Marcus would not appreciate this being bandied about," Neroon warned.

"I see. Then I am happy for you and your heart's mate my friend. But, we still have the problem of keeping this away from the gossipmongers. The full War Council session has been moved up to 06:30 hours. New intelligence has come in and we need to be there, we ALL need to be there. We now have exactly thirty-five Standard minutes to get you and your intended ready AND presentable, and at the meeting on time. WITHOUT anyone finding out that the Ranger has spent the night in your quarters," Martag said, still frustrated at the events.

"_Ra'sh ta'al Quith_! (God damn it)!" Neroon swore. The rest of his staff would now be here any minute! How in the Humans' hell did he keep them from finding out about Marcus?!

* * *

Warmth, softness and safety, these were the first sensations to penetrate his consciousness. Marcus burrowed deeper into the soft warmth, enjoying the comfort that he so rarely was able to indulge in. He awoke slowly. He had had such a lovely dream last night and did not want to let it go. Finally, Marcus stretched and opened his eyes. It had been no dream! He really was in Neroon's sleeping chamber, in his bed. Neroon had taken him through _Li'ransa _last night! Marcus smiled and blushed at the memory. It had been the most beautiful experience of his life. Oh, Jeff and Jesus! He was now engaged to the _Shai Alyt_!

Marcus heard some faint murmurs coming from the main room. They were speaking _Lenn'ah_ (the Warrior Caste language). Marcus knew Minbari culture well and began to panic. Oh, Bugger! THIS WAS SO NOT GOOD!

_"Please, please, God, let them leave! Bloody well make them leave now!"_ Marcus prayed desperately. If anyone found him here, Neroon's reputation would be ruined, let alone his own! They'd never be able to hold their heads up in Minbari society again!

While Marcus was panicking in his bed, an equally panicked Neroon hurried into the room. Neroon, seeing the terrified "_gok_ in the searchlights look" in his _ma'fela's_ eyes, sat down and quickly explained the situation. He was then treated to a colorful use of Standard that he had not heard before. When Marcus was finished with his lesson in Standard profanity, Martag walked in. Upon seeing the Warrior, Marcus gave a very undignified and frightened squeak and dove further under the covers.

"Oh, for the love of Valen! Even if it may be true, we have no time for you to act the frightened innocent now, _Anla'Shok_! Your _ma'fela's_ foolishness last night has put us in a bind. I have been able to divert the rest of the staff by having called them and stating that _Shai Alyt_ wants a full analysis as soon as he enters the Council Chamber. They are all currently cursing Neroon's ancestors to the Vales of the Shadows and trying to work battle computations while running to the Chamber to set up the projections."

"Now, we need the both of you dressed and out of here WITHOUT anyone finding out your whereabouts of last night!" Martag said as he looked around and started gathering up Marcus's uniform. "Neroon has fresh uniforms here, but you, oh, you foolish _felisil_ (child)! Yours cannot be repaired quickly! Neroon, did you really have to rip his trousers off?! By the Ancient Ones, it's a wonder he's not hiding under the bed in paroxysms of trauma! _Li'ransa_ indeed!"

Marcus was humiliated and ashamed. And it seemed that it would only get worse. There was no way he could get out of here without anyone in the corridors seeing him, and the state of his uniform! And those had been his favorite boxers! Oh, Valen, every Minbari, (and some Humans) from here to the Rim, will label him a tramp after this. Then Martag's words filtered into his brain, ALL OF HIS WORDS. Well, he'd take care of his telltale fiancé as after they'd gotten out of this mess.

After another bout of manic panicking, Marcus's mind finally began to work in crisis mode. "How much time do we have?" he asked.

"Twenty-five Standard minutes," Neroon answered while cleansing and dressing hurriedly.

"One of you hand me my utility belt," Marcus said while still holding the covers up to his chin and blushing furiously.

Martag, who had the majority of Marcus's now rather tattered uniform in his possession, handed it over.

"Since you have so kindly spilled the beans out of necessity, then I'm calling in back-up of my own. Get ready for a pissed-off, probably hung-over, and caffeine deprived Russian _Spretznos_t Commander," Marcus said as he pulled out a specialized comm link, one not patched through either BabCom or the Minbari Dispatch Channels.

He did this while still keeping everything but his right arm and face completely covered. Sometimes, it paid to be former EFI. The comm activated.

"Phoenix Rising," Marcus said.

"Phoenix Reborn," answered Ivanova. "Marcus, how bad is it? What's your twenty?"

"Situation's FUBAR from here to the bleedin' Rim. Not work. Personal. And buggered, real, real buggered. Twenty's Neroon's. Susan, I need you to push that sodding meeting back at least fifteen minutes and get me a uniform from the Ranger Salle in blue sector. It's closest. Locker code's "Zog". Please don't lecture until you get here. Oh, and I need an invisible exit strategy," Marcus rushed out, hoping to avoid a scolding by overwhelming his best friend on Station with too much information.

It didn't work. Ivanova, being a friend to Delenn, knew some of Minbari culture, and therefore began to fume. She also was Marcus's only confidante, which added to the temper building. "Uniform!? Marcus, we're NOT talking a Casanova exit here, are we?" Susan asked with her temper palpably rising.

Marcus flushed in shame. "Please _Susatchka_, lecture later, save our political hides now," he begged.

Susan swore profusely in Russian before giving Marcus his answer. "In process. I just had a comm message from your new idiot boyfriend's staff. They need more time to set up the battle projections. That works in our favor. Sending a message to all attendees now, giving them an additional twenty minutes for set-up. I'm in transit. But, I need Michael for the exit."

Marcus whimpered. "Do you really need him?" He knew Garibaldi would never let him live it down, especially now that the Chief knew everything.

"Marcus, he's GROPO, and Station Chief," Susan said as she ran.

The poor Ranger groaned in acknowledgement. "Comm go Daffy," Marcus resignedly authorized, adding the secondary call.

Ivanova and Marcus then explained the situation and got an irate Garibaldi's help. Although, the Chief promised Marcus a lecture on the etiquette of dating that he wouldn't soon forget. There would be an impromptu security sweep, computer generated of course, of the VIP sector when they needed to leave. Thank God for Security Chiefs who could hack their own systems! There also was a service shaft from Neroon's chambers to a side service corridor. They'd be in play when he and Ivanova got there. Then, they'd go to "Phase Two" of what was quickly becoming the "Master Plan".

Meanwhile, Martag had gone into the bathing facilities while the exit strategy was being planned. He came out with wet cloths and some kind of cologne bottle. Once the planning ended, he came over to the bed.

"Here, clean up as best you can under there. I know nothing short of the entire Shadow fleet would get you out of under there with me here. But, _felisil_, most of the scent of last night's activities must be gone before you leave these chambers," Martag said as kindly as possible.

The cologne bottle actually contained Neroon's preferred cleansing astringent. Marcus knew he'd pay with a week of dry and itchy skin for this, but it would do the trick. Marcus's humiliation and shame knew no bounds as he did as instructed. Oh Valen, every being with any decent scent reception would be able to figure out what happened! What had he done to deserve this?

Just as Marcus finished cleaning up, Ivanova and Garibaldi arrived. If looks could kill, Neroon would be subatomic particles. Marcus had never seen those two so angry before!

"Don't worry, sector's already clear, no one saw us coming. Here, I grabbed some deodorant, mouth wash and a brush on my way here," Garibaldi said as he handed over a shaving kit. "There's some muscle analgesic in there too. Didn't have anything strong, so I hope Don Juan over there didn't go all out," he finished while shooting another murderous look at Neroon.

Oh, God! Did Michael just…? Marcus choked. Please, please let a hole in the universe open up and swallow him!

"Here Marcus, I got your stuff. And, I'm telling you, it took everything I had not to get caught! You owe me, _bratko_!" Ivanova added.

As Marcus dove back under his makeshift tent in order to dress, (Bugger! Forgot about that! Well, it wasn't the first time he'd gone commando.), the _Shai Alyt _began to defend his soul mate's honor as best as possible under these circumstances. Oh, Valen! The Warrior had never been so embarrassed in his life!

"Mr. Garibaldi, Commander, please, do you not see how this is affecting Marcus? If it is your place to know, we did not consummate our - What is the Standard word? - our betrothal last evening. Please stop injuring my _Zha'aia's_ feelings over this. If you must blame someone for this mess, blame me. Had I acted with honor, I would have let our courtship progress at the proper pace."

"I see," Garibaldi growled out as he shot the Minbari another death ray glare. "Well Neroon, I've got to say, YOU'RE THE FASTEST DAMNED SON OF A BITCH THIS SIDE OF THE RIM!" roared a now severely pissed-off Garibaldi. "Asking for a first date, you said yesterday. Engaged, you say today. If this is some Minbari shotgun wedding, you better bet I'll be there with my plasma rifle! I might call Marcus my personal P.I.T.A., but I'm the closest damn thing that he's got to a father in this place! You hurt him, and I'll roast your Minbari ass over a slow fire, ALIVE!"

"After I've ripped your balls off and force-fed them to you!" added an equally pissed-off Ivanova.

Neroon winced. Actually winced. The Commander was so much more frightening than the raging Garibaldi. Somehow, he knew that this Human Woman Warrior would be able to accomplish the task. Dear Valen! Why hadn't EarthForce just sent her and her tribeswomen to the front and ended the war in one salvo?

"Um, meeting ETA thirteen minutes and counting. Neroon, _ma'fela_, can I barrow some socks?" Martag already had them out as Marcus emerged. "Thank you, Martag. The exit is needed now. Please threaten my fiancé's manhood later. Boots now, please. Thank you again, Martag," Marcus said as the Warrior again handed over the requested items.

"Marcus, get your boots buckled while I get your hair taken care of," Ivanova said, now temporarily distracted from contemplating how to best space Neroon without restarting the Earth-Minbari War.

Marcus got his boots on as Susan quickly brushed out his hair. At the same time Garibaldi accessed the service shaft. When he was as presentable as possible, Marcus stood up and pulled on his cloak.

"Get that kiester moving, Cole. Follow the outlined grid plan. It'll get you to the maintenance office right next to the Council Chambers. You should arrive ten minutes before us, and from the opposite direction. Don't worry about being caught coming out, I've got Zack on the lookout. He'll cover your six. We'll get there five minutes late with the Grand Pooba here reaming Susan and me out over the security sweep. NOW GO!" Garibaldi ordered.

Marcus ran. He followed the map without a flaw. Having a photographic and spatially adept memory had its perks. He came to the maintenance access panel in seven minutes. Being a sprint champion in his student days didn't hurt either. He pulled at the panel and slipped through.

As he opened the office door, Garibaldi's 2IC called out, "That you Cole?"

"Who else would it bloody be?" Marcus grumbled.

"Corridor's clear. Come on out," answered Zack Allen.

As soon Marcus came through the door Allen hit him with a spray of cologne. "What the bloody hell was that for?" Marcus hissed out.

"Scent markers, you idiot!" answered Allen in a voice that was just as angry.

"Bloody, buggering hell! Does all of Security know?" fumed Marcus as they walked down the corridor.

"No. And the boss didn't say anything either. He was muttering about castrating the Minbari Grand Pooba on his way out, so I kinda put two and two together. Your secret's safe. But Jesus Cole, can you stop trying to restart the damned War?" Allen finished as they approached and entered the Council Chambers.

Right on cue! Neroon, his Chief Aide, Susan, and Michael came in. Ooh, they all deserved Academy Awards! Neroon was laying on the "Pissed-off _Shai Alyt_" but good. Ivanova was doing the "Placating, but Really Want to Space the Bastard" act. And Michael just kept grinding his teeth with his gun hand twitching all the while. Marcus took another look at Michael. Um, then again, maybe the Chief wasn't acting.

Then Neroon's and Marcus's eyes met, and held just for a moment. It was enough. Two of Neroon's junior aides had caught it. The gossip train was already off at their table. The stage was set for the second part of the plan. Everyone took his or her seats. The session began. And it was a drawn-out, nitpicking, nightmare of a lulu. Marcus had been so humiliatingly dragged out Neroon's bed for this!?

When the torture finally ended everyone, including Sheridan, breathed a sigh of relief. Each of the delegates began to pick up to leave. Neroon then cleared his throat and stood up. There was a collective groan. No one wanted this thing to restart.

"Forgive me for taking up more of this assembly's time but I have some news of a more personal nature to share," Neroon said as he walked over to Marcus.

Show time! Valen, he hoped that he could give as good a performance as Susan! Marcus gave a Neroon very convincing shy smile and stood up beside him.

"Last evening, after speaking to the person who is acting as _Anla'Shok_ Cole's surrogate father in this endeavor, I asked Marcus for his permission to court him, with the final intent being our bonding," Neroon turned to Marcus, and in full view of their audience, lightly brushed his outer wrist. "Marcus has accepted my suit."

Marcus ducked his head and blushed. Jeff and Jesus! He hoped that he was pulling this off.

There were gasps of surprise from the audience, and knowing smirks from Neroon's aides, who thought they had "figured" it out so "quickly". Susan just looked smug. Sheridan and Delenn looked stunned, but quickly recovered. The rest of the War Council could be knocked over with feathers. Really, Londo needed to have that back molar looked at!

Neroon continued when the din died down. "Chief Garibaldi has explained that in Human terms this represents a betrothal. So, there will be a – a, an -- what was the term again, Mr. Garibaldi?"

The Chief stood up, acting for all the world like a proud papa. "It's called an "engagement dinner". It is an old Earth tradition where the betrothal of the young couple is celebrated. The event will be held at _Fresh Aire_ at 2000 hrs this evening. You are all invited. Please come. Commander Ivanova has worked very hard for quite some time on it (Susan took a bow, still looking smug and now very pleased with herself.), well since the boys (Neroon's cheek twitched at being called a boy) starting corresponding really. You all know how women are. I'm sure it will be the social event of the decade!"

Marcus's heart stopped. Whoa! _Fresh Aire_! What the fuck! How much was this going to cost? And WHO was this going to cost? Geribaldi winked in his direction. Oh, yeah. Forgot that "_la famiglia_" had major stock in the chain.

When the crowd recovered, there were congratulations and well wishes coming from all around. Yes, everyone would be there. Of course, how could they miss this? Then the haranguing of Susan and Michael began. No one dared approach the newly betrothed couple. The _Shai Alyt _had gone into overprotective mode of his "shy young Ranger".

_Fresh Aire_, how could Susan arrange something on such short notice? Not short? Ah, a standing reservation that she called in when the right day was announced. Had been planning it since Marcus got out of medlab after the _den'shah_? Really? No, no they hadn't seen the way Neroon looked at him when he had left. The _Shai Alyt_ had sent Marcus what? He sent him roses, real life Earth roses? One for each day he spent in recovery, along with crystals of _tee'lah_ (Minbari folk poetry). Oh, how romantic! Ooh, were those two ever laying it on thick! Could they even keep this mess straight?

Did Delenn or the Captain know of the budding romance? No! Really? And on and on it went. Through all this, Neroon and Marcus had been quietly and unobtrusively edging their way to the doors. As soon as it looked clear, they were about to leave. That's when the severely pissed-off Chief of Security finally got his revenge.

"Neroon!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. That got everyone's attention! Marcus cringed visibly. "If I told you once, I told you a thousand times. Marcus is a sworn promise keeper. That means, you randy bastard, you don't go anywhere without a chaperone! DON'T GLOWER AT ME LIKE THAT! I saw you reaching for Marcus's hand! His ungloved hand no less! And don't you be tryin' that again! What, you want me to call Great Aunt..."

And so it began!

The End


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Birthdays, Conniving Chiefs, Doctors, and Tailors - Oh My!

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel "What Telling Birthday Wishes Brings". My, my, how will Neroon survive the courting intact?

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations. The Italian came from badly remembered high school lessons, please forgive any errors.

* * *

Birthdays, Conniving Chiefs, Doctors, and Tailors - Oh My!

Neroon had finally been able to extricate himself and Marcus from the Council Chambers. Oh Valen! There went trying to keep himself from being labeled an aging libertine. By the time Garibaldi had finished, even his most junior aides had been snickering behind their hands. The worst part of the situation had been knowing that there was no way to retaliate publicly without ruining Marcus's reputation as well. He, the _Shai Alyt _of the Warrior Caste and former _Satai_, had had to stand before the rest of the War Leaders of the ISA and take a tongue lashing from the Chief as if he was nothing more than a raw and undisciplined trainee!

Neroon was still stinging from the injustice of it all, as well as from that horrible smirk on Delenn's face! At least Sheridan seemed to have some sympathy for him. In fact, he seemed to know exactly what Neroon felt like. Hmm, maybe another, more private, alliance was in order? Valen knew he'd never get any help from Martag if this morning had been any indication.

Poor Marcus had spent the entirety of the tirade blushing, ducking his head, having the Commander patting his shoulder and saying in a false whisper that "none of this was his fault" while shooting dirty looks at Neroon. Oh, but the Chief knew exactly what he was doing! Well, at least shouting out the Marcus was a "sworn promise keeper" had all the Humans looking at his _ma'fela _with a new type of respect. Now he needed to verify what that statement meant!

And now, now they were stuck in the good Doctor's offices! As soon as everyone had gotten a good laugh at the sight of the _Shai Alyt_ being verbally torn apart by an "overprotective papa Garibaldi", they'd tried to leave again. There had been no such luck. The Doctor had finally gotten over his shock and had then, as quietly and as unobtrusively as possible, hustled them to his office for something he referred to as "The Talk". A smirking Chief had followed them, ostensibly to chaperone, and now stood guard in front of the Doctor's office door. There would be no escape, and from Marcus's nervousness and mortification, Neroon knew exactly what the topic of this so-called "Talk" would be.

"Alright, I know neither of you are comfortable being here, but I think Marcus needs to know what he's getting into if you two are to proceed in this courtship. First of all, since you've taken a vow to stay virgin until you married, (So, he'd been right, that's exactly what it meant!) I really think you need the information, Marcus. You know that there are rituals in Minbari courting that preempt parts of the wedding night," Doctor Franklin said as kindly as possible.

With that statement, the Doctor launched into a detailed lecture into the topics of Human and Minbari sexuality; how they differed and were the same, and how they could be safely combined. Franklin then went into an extensive lecture on homosexual intercourse that had poor Marcus hyperventilating. The poor Ranger was so embarrassed that Neroon was barely able to keep Marcus from bolting.

Oh, Franklin kept it all very clinical, but Marcus still choked, groaned, and hid his face in his hands near the end. When the psychological torture specialist who dared to call himself a Healer brought out the "visual aides", even Neroon, who'd borne the situation stoically up until this point, groaned and ducked his head! That was when Marcus had stuttered out a plea for the Doctor to stop and buried his head against Neroon's shoulder, while repeating "No more!" over and over again.

At this point, the Chief interrupted. "Doc, I think Marcus has had all he can take. You've covered the basics. I don't think Neroon here is, um, untried. If our Ranger has any questions, he can carry the ball from here, okay?"

Franklin surveyed the two before him. Yup, Marcus was definitely at the end of his ability to withstand embarrassment. If he continued, the Ranger wouldn't be able to process any of the information anyway. Marcus was curled up tight against Neroon's side, had his head buried in the _Shai Aylt's_ shoulder, while the Minbari was murmuring something in _Lenn'ah_ and stroking the Ranger's hair. The Doctor took pity on him, well on them both, since Neroon seemed to be reaching his breaking point as well. Hmm, maybe the details of inadvertent injuries had been too much?

"Alright. But, if you have any questions that Neroon can't answer, I want you to come to me, you hear? And, if that's the case, you'd better get your butt in this office BEFORE the _Shan'Fal_ mister!" Steven ordered.

There was a muffled, "Oh, Valen!" heard from the vicinity of Neroon's shoulder. The Doctor smirked. Their innocent little Ranger hadn't thought of that one, had he? _"Well, better get the shock over with now. That way, there wouldn't be any embarrassing scenes later,"_ Franklin thought. (Oh, how little he knew!)

The Doctor then took a good look at the Ranger's pale face when he finally came up for air. Oh, this had definitely been too much for him. Marcus might even need a stim before he left.

"Marcus, why don't you go freshen up? The lav is through there," he offered gently.

When Marcus left, the Doctor's expression changed from one of concern to one of barely control contempt. He turned to Neroon. "You either have the best poker face I've ever seen or you were not surprised by anything I said."

The Warrior was nonplussed. "As the Chief stated, I am experienced. I will not hide the fact. I am a Warrior, not a Priest. While I understand that your experience with Minbari comes mostly from their Caste, we are still different. In fact, I would say that we are quite different from the other two Castes."

"We do not have the same outlook on life as the Religious Caste, nor the Worker Caste. The closest ideals to ours that you would have seen would be those of Lennier, who has been trained as _Tha'Domo_ (fighting monk). But, please, do not compare me to Lennier. And, Valen forbid, never compare me to Delenn! I have also had male lovers before, Doctor. I will not injure Marcus emotionally or physically, " Neroon stated nonchalantly.

"I meant on the topic of Human Sexuality, _Shai Alyt_," The Doctor stated, not willing to take a partial answer.

Neroon gave him a glacial look. If the healer wanted to see the worst, then so be it. "The war." No other statement need be made.

The Doctor flushed. Neroon could literally see the fury in him rise. The Chief stepped in then.

"Steven, it's not that. You weren't in on anything EFI did. I'm sure they were willing."

Marcus came back in at that moment, and he immediately defended his _ma'fela_. "Michael's right, Steven. Minbari Warriors don't do that. It's against everything they believe in. It's an act that holds no honor. The ones that came to Neroon were willing."

"EFI had a standing order out in the last days. If you got caught, do everything possible to stay alive. Spill everything you had. Hell, at the rate the War was going against us, trying to evade interrogation wouldn't have helped anybody. They told us to go native, to get close in if you could. The best way to do that would be to set your self up to be taken as a "pet" by one of the Warriors. The whole point was to get deep sleepers in."

Marcus's expression became haunted as he went on. "We were expecting a genocidal end, with some of Humanity taken as slaves, as an example to anyone else who wished to defy the Minbari. The last orders were given with the intent of hopefully Humanity surviving and rising again, when the time came. Even that time if it was centuries in the future. A synopsis of who we were as a race, a species, had been programmed in each of us by a P13. And yes, I know that P13 telepaths aren't supposed to exist, but trust me, they do. Anyway, it was done with the intent of passing on the collective knowledge of Humanity genetically, if there was no other way. Even our children, if we were ever allowed to reproduce, were to be sleepers through that programming."

Neroon looked at his _ma'fela_ in shock. Marcus's voice was subdued and echoed with remembered pain. By Valen, just how desperate had Humanity been? What had they done to this race? How close had his love come to betraying his personal beliefs in order to follow those last, desperate orders? For the first time, Neroon felt true shame over the actions of the Caste during the War, not just guilt over their ignorance. This wasn't just about _Id'Minbari_ any more, but about the deaths and degradation of millions of innocents.

Another thought came to him. What would he have done had Marcus been given to him back then? Shame hit him so hard that Neroon almost reacted physically. No, he had never been brutal with the ones that had come to him, but he'd never been particularly kind either. Their pleasure – not even their comfort – had not been a priority, just the release of his battle tensions. By Valen, what had he done!?

The Warriors had seen the prisoners, male and female alike, as courtesans. In the Caste's eyes, the Humans had only been only toys, not beings worthy of any respect. Why should beings that were willing to trade their bodies in order to stay alive be respected? Not one of the Warriors saw a plan designed. No one cared about an entire race's need to survive.

No one would have respected Marcus's unawakened state. He would have been just another toy. How badly would have that disrespect spiritually damaged his love? Would he even been able to survive the shame and self-hatred Neroon was now sure his beloved would have felt? Oh, Valen! What if he had fallen onto the hands of the Wind Swords?! By the Ancients, it did not bear thinking of! Neroon forcefully shook himself out of his own waking nightmare and turned his attention to his now distraught intended.

"_Zha'aia_, it is over. Our Council saw our error, and somehow, we will atone for our actions. Please, _ma'fela_, do not dwell on the past. Please, do not let the past cause you any more pain. Look to the future, look towards our courtship and bonding. Look towards our love," Neroon said as he took Marcus in his arms, comforting both his love and himself. They held each other then, blocking out the other two men, and the rest of the universe.

After a bit, the Chief interrupted, "Okay kids, enough of that. That's getting past the point of acceptable behavior, here. Besides, Susan just commed me. Marcus here has an appointment with the tailor. You, kiddo, are in a peck of trouble over your wardrobe with our favorite Russian. She's taken the liberty of going through your things and decided that you don't have anything that is up to par for tonight. She'll be here any minute."

The Chief succeeded in lightening the mood. Marcus groaned as he and Neroon broke apart. "Clothes shopping! Haven't I been tortured enough for one day?"

Ivanova walked in with Delenn, of all people, in tow. "Nope. You are now betrothed, _bratko_. And that means living up to your social obligations, not coming up with lame excuses and running the minute some says that dreaded word, "party". Now, let's get moving. I can't believe you thought you'd get away with showing up in uniform tonight!" she finished as she started ushering Marcus out the door.

Neroon had a mischievous thought. "Would you feel better if I accompanied you, love?" he said with all innocence.

"Don't even think about it mister! You are so not getting a chance to play "Peeping Tom"!" huffed Ivanova. "Besides Martag is waiting outside, something about communiqués from Minbar."

Marcus started defending Neroon as they left. "Susan! I can't believe you accused Neroon of that! He is _Shai Alyt_ and _Satai_! My fiancé would never act so dishonorably!"

Susan chuckled. "That's what you think! The only thing on his mind was the fact that in order for you to try on clothes, you needed to change. Hence, you plus clothing removal were on that Warrior's brain, NOT emotional support! Trust me!" she finished as they left the medlab.

Neroon sighed. Well, that strategy went nowhere. What was the Commander, telepathic? And Delenn! That... That... What did Humans say again? That witch! She was truly enjoying his humiliation! He'd have to speak with Sheridan soon.

"Healer Franklin, Chief Garibaldi, I bid you well. I must speak with my aide," Neroon said with a bow, and turned to leave.

"I'll walk you out, Neroon. I need to speak to your aide as well. He and I talked this morning. Martag pointed out the need to keep everything on the up and up with your people in this endeavor as well. We've got to come up with a plan for the right chaperones for the right events," the Chief said pointedly as they walked to the door.

Neroon sighed. Would there be no end to this? He was met by the most forbidding expression he had ever seen on his best friend's face.

"Just so you know, I fully back the Chief's actions on this, Neroon. Since he is acting as Marcus's foster father, he has the right to ask for your discipline for dishonorable actions in front of the Caste Council!" Martag looked around, "Let's take this conversation somewhere more secure. We do not need any more persons in on this mess!"

"Let's get to my office. We'll iron out the details there," Garibaldi said in a tone just as forbidding as Martag's.

Neroon felt like a criminal walking to the gallows as they walked to the Security Chief's office. He knew this situation wouldn't bode well for him when he answered his door this morning and found Martag waiting outside while Marcus had slumbered so innocently in his bed. Now, he wondered if he would live to see his nuptials. An upset Chief he could deal with, an angered Chief Aide siding with the Chief, well THAT was not survivable.

When they reached their destination, the Chief gave a nod to his 2IC, who promptly cleared everyone out of the outer office on an impromptu security drill. The officers left, grumbling all the while. They entered Garibaldi's personal office, the chief walked to his desk, and put his had on the door of one of his file lockers. He then turned abound.

"Sit!" he barked out.

Neroon found himself reacting like a trainee again. He sat. Would this humiliation never end?

The chief started to speak again. "Don't worry about security cameras or any recordings. I just activated a prerecorded loop. Nothing we say will be known by anyone but the three of us. So, let me start," the Chief took what appeared to be a steadying breath, and then, "YOU MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? THIS ISN'T JUST ABOUT MARCUS! IF THIS MORNING HAD GOTTEN OUT, YOU'D HAVE GIVE THAT INSANE BASTARD SHAKIRI A WAY BACK INTO POWER!"

Neroon paled. He'd never even thought of that. If the Caste Council had removed him for improper conduct, Shakiri would have indeed been able to petition for reinstatement. Oh, Valen! No wonder Martag wanted him "roasted" as much as the Chief!

"The Chief is correct. You should have thought of all your objectives last night, not just let your heart lead your head," Martag added icily.

The Chief snorted. "His heart? I'd say it was his cock! And that leads back to Marcus. Neroon if you really love him as much as you say you do, you've got to try to understand something more about Humans. Just like you said Warriors stand apart from the rest of Minbari society, so does EarthForce from the rest of Humanity. We're not held to the same ethics and standards of behavior as the rest of our species. Because we can die at any time, and die so far from home, our peccadilloes are overlooked. Human male soldiers are even expected to be very experienced. The more dangerous your assignment, the worse of a lothario society expects. And God knows we've earned those reputations. Now, on that note, human Rangers are judged as any member of EarthForce would be, as any other soldiers, by the rest of the Station's humans."

"Going on, what you see out here isn't what you'd see on one of our colonies or Earth. Civilian Society is more conservative. Now that the situation has gotten more stable, things are returning to what they used to be like." The Chief paused and frowned before going on. "I don't know what the Clark and Shadow situation is doing to society, though. Anyway, before the War, promise keepers – you do know what that means?" Neroon nodded yes, and the Chief went on.

"Well, women have tried to live up to that ideal for as long as our race has been around, and around three or four centuries ago, the men actually started giving the ideal lip service outside the Church. About two and a half centuries ago, they started getting serious about it. I think the fact that well over sixty percent of population of the continents of Africa and south-east Asia and twenty percent of the rest of the world had died of a particularly nasty, and at that time incurable, sexually transmitted virus had something to do with it."

"Now, to get back to what I was saying, before the War, promise keepers weren't rare at all. The desperation of the War changed all that. When a species is fighting for survival, it tends to drop what won't help it survive, and not passing on your genetics definitely won't help survival."

"So it was another sexual revolution for the Human race. As long as you weren't fucking in front of your CO or some underage kid, well, get to it on the double, soldier! Get her knocked up as fast as possible. We'll worry about you two getting hitched if you come back from the front alive, otherwise, well, one of your buddies will take care of her and the kid. And if you and your buddy are doing it too, well everyone needs comfort after facing hell. Why pass up any kind of love when you're about to die?"

Neroon broke in at that point. "But, if what you are saying is true, wouldn't the situation been overlooked? After all, Marcus is still a Warrior. Only I would have been held accountable," the Warrior stated, puzzled.

Michael sighed and wearily rubbed his eyes. "Yes and no. Yes, the military here would have shrugged and said, "So what?" Nothing new, poor bastard just got caught with a bigwig. Oops! Set those locks better next time, kid." The civilians would have just rolled their eyes and looked Marcus as just another lecherous soldier."

"That said, the shit would have really hit the fan when you tried to defend yourself in front of the Council. And if what Martag said this morning is true, Shakiri would have made sure you ended up being impeached. Your defense would have been that you were getting engaged, and you and Marcus had only gone through that ceremony, however the hell you pronounce it."

"Well, once it had gotten out through the grapevine that Marcus was virgin, AND BELIEVE ME, IT WOULD HAVE, there would be no end of scorn from the soldiers. What kind of loser holds on to it this long? And the civilians would have immediately jumped onto the "why the little tart sold himself to the highest bidder" gossip train. I don't even want to know what your people would have said and done! I had to put paid to all of that. The Promise Keeper Vow was and is the best way."

"Once you said that, I saw the Humans in the council chamber looking at Marcus differently," Neroon said.

Mr. Garibaldi smiled smugly at that comment. He seemed very pleased with himself to the Warrior. Neroon was now even more curious as to what the Chief had to say.

Michael explained, "Yes, well, for Marcus to be able to hold to that kind of Vow after everything he's lived through, he's got have had some kind of superhuman self-control. Sometimes, after sometimes after a particularly horrendous situation, only the comfort of another person will do. Now, if Marcus could forgo that comfort for the strength of his convictions, he's got to be the poster boy for Human ethics. And believe me, Neroon, whether or not he took that Vow, that's exactly what he has been doing, even if it has been unconscious."

"Anyway, to get back to the point, by now the whole station will have gotten word that you and my personal P.I.T.A. are getting hitched, and are holding to both the traditions of your people and the highest ideals of ours, which works in our favor. It will help us combat any rumors if they start. After all, why would a promise keeper give in with the end in sight? Having me breathing down their necks like a psychotic father protecting his virgin underage daughter from drunken Centauri Lords won't hurt our situation either."

The Chief chuckled. "Oh, but that Ranger's gonna hate me before this is over. I just made him the prime example of the strength of Human conviction. From here on in, every Human is going to treat him like a prince. Women will be fawning over him, and cursing you for taking him out of the viable gene pool. Men are going to go out of their way to be polite in actions and language, while hating him for making them all look bad, and hating you even more for landing him. The soldiers that he fought and bled beside, and who used share their exploits in and out of the bedroom with him will now treat him like an innocent child. I wouldn't be surprised if the Human Rangers clear out the locker room for him when he goes in to change."

The Chief burst into laughter. "They'll probably even post a guard so he can shower alone and unmolested. Every Human here will be working double time to make sure that his sensibilities aren't insulted anymore. He shouldn't be surprised if there's a line-up of people trying to take the worst of his missions. They'll want him to make it to the wedding in one piece."

Martag chuckled. "When the Minbari find out what "Promise Keeper" means, and see how the Humans are reacting, they'll be doing the same thing, especially the Religious Caste! Our Caste, on the other hand, will be dumbfounded. How could a Warrior who is not called to the life of _Tha'Domo _hold to that ideal? Don't be surprised to see Minbari of all Caste and Rank bowing low as he passes."

Micheal shook his head and laughed again. "Martag, you and I will definitely NOT be on his Christmas card list this year! All right, on to the next order of business. You, Neroon, are going to be acting like Galahad around Marcus from here on in, got that? No more hanky-panky unless it involves one of your rituals, and THEN and ONLY THEN do you do anything. Got it? You, bucko, will be bearing the brunt of this mess socially since you proposed."

Neroon agreed. What else was he to do?

"Now, when Humans get engaged the one making the proposal gives their intended a betrothal ring. Usually, in Human society, it's a man asking a woman. But here, we can pull from Marcus's cultural past. Marcus's family is from the British Isles, and in the ancient Gaelic and Celtic tradition, even the men wore engagement rings, I _think_. I'm Italian, so I don't know for sure. Anyway, if you look like you did some research into his ancestry, it'll make you look real good. And this thing won't look like we're all flying by the seats of our pants."

"So, what you are doing when you leave here is going to a Human jeweler who can make you a _claddagh_, which is what the Celtic engagement rings are called. There's one jeweler on the station who owes me and will keep mum on the timing of this, just be prepared to pay through the nose," Garibaldi said as he handed over a flimsy. "You'll be presenting the ring to Marcus tonight at the party. Make it a real show."

"This works well with the Minbari tradition of giving a significant gift to signal the start of the courtship. Last night's little "dinner party" had best be forgotten by your servants, Neroon," Martag said.

"I'm sure if you ask them, the answer would be, "Dinner? What dinner?" Selective amnesia is required when serving a _Satai_," a smug Neroon answered.

"Let's hope it lasts," answered a skeptical Garibaldi.

"Now, let's finish this. While you spoke about the – ahem – facts of the "future relationship" with the Doctor, I contacted Sech Derhann. I informed him of your "long standing" interest in _Anla'Shok_ Cole and the courtship. Needless to say, he is ecstatic to hear that his two favorite students intend to bond. He has agreed to come and act as your chaperone for the Minbari portions of this courtship," said Martag.

"And my threat of sicing Great Aunt Francesca on you wasn't an empty one. I had Zack contact her while we were with the Doc. I had him tell her that you want to marry _"il figlio di mio cuore"_ – that's "the son of my heart" in Italian. Made him quote me word for word. Since I don't have any kids of my own, that got her old system pumpin'. Anyway, Zack added the "promise keeper" part on his own."

"Well, the old girl and her two escorts are gonna be here in two days, don't ask how that's possible. Just know that when "_la famiglia_" wants something done, it gets done. Also, by saying what I did, I've basically adopted Marcus into "the family". That means if you ever, and I mean EVER, do anything to hurt even one hair on his head, you'll be hunted down like a rabid dog, and put down like one too. Got it?"

Neroon nodded. "I take it that you belong to an old Warrior Clan?"

Michael laughed mirthlessly before his face began to resemble the White Mask of Death. "You wish. No, Neroon. I belong to an extremely old bloodline of criminal masterminds and paid assassins."

Neroon swallowed hard and paled while Martag looked grim at that announcement.

"There's a genetic reason why I'm good at what I do, boys. Look up the word "mafia" when you have the chance. Better yet, watch the old vids, "The Godfather" and "Scarface". Oh, we've gone mostly legit over the centuries, but the old ways are still there. That's why you'll never know when it's coming. We ALWAYS take care of our own!" Garibaldi threatened.

Michael then swiftly changed moods and gears. "That means I'll be taking care of any costs entailed with this shindig as well, other than the ring and the Minbari mumbo-jumbo. Oh, and you had better be on your best behavior when my Great Aunt is with the two of you! The old girl is faster with that cane of hers than a quick draw artist is with a PPG! I've got the healed fractures in my hands to prove it!"

The change in the conversation let the two Warriors recover from the unpleasant news as well as from the threats. Neroon groaned while Martag laughed at the idea of an elderly Human lady assaulting a Minbari Warrior in his prime. Even Michael had to chuckle at that thought.

"She sounds exactly like Master Durhann. He's a terror with his walking stick as well!" Martag chuckled out.

"Two of them! If I end up going to the _Na'fak Cha_ (Rebirth and/or Marriage Ritual) in a body cast, you two will be explaining to Marcus why his state of grace won't be changing any time soon! And, after his wait, I don't think he'll take kindly to the addition to it!" Neroon groused to the hysterical laughter of the other two men.

* * *

Marcus was never so relieved to be in a dressing room in his life! Oh, thank God and Valen! Peace, peace at last! Could he hide in here until the engagement party started?

Delenn had really been put out that he hadn't confided about his "budding relationship" with Neroon to her. And now she wanted details! Thank God that Susan had one of the most devious minds in the universe! While he blushed, stuttered, stammered and hem-hawed, she'd gotten Delenn on the subject of "promise keepers". It had gotten Delenn to leave him alone, but - Oh Boy! Did that EVER change the way Delenn treated Marcus! No more grilling, but the pampering, it was getting outrageous! He was still a Ranger thank you!

Did the Chief have to make it public knowledge that he was still virgin? It looked like every Human in the Zocalo had heard the news. Great! Just how was he going to live this down? He saw how everyone was looking at him! At first, he thought that every EarthForce member and Human Ranger would make sure to make his life hell! Well he found out it was true, just not in the way he previously thought.

And when they'd walked into this shop, the tailor had gone nuts! The little old guy had kept going on about how the suit _Signori_ Garibaldi and _Signorina_ Ivanova had ordered for him was ready, and how he was such a good boy! More soldiers should be like him! What good boy, should have been in the Church!

Oh, don't worry about the cost! Young _Signore_ Cole shouldn't worry about anything. His new "_papà_" would take care of everything! How sad to lose everyone like this good boy had. It is a good thing he'd found the love of a strong Warrior like the Shai Alyt, _si_? And a strong new "_papà_" like _Signore_ Garibaldi. No, young _Signore_ Cole should not worry about anything! After all,_ "la famiglia" _always took care of everything for their young ones! Oh, Valen! Just what had he gotten himself into? This didn't bode well. He was being treated like the son of a Mafia Don! Oh, right. The Garibaldi Family WAS an old LCN family. BUGGER!

Just as Marcus had gotten the ladies calmed down over the cut of the tux and shooed the little hyperactive tailor away another Ranger walked into the shop. When he saw Marcus was about to go change, he immediately said he'd wait until the "Cole Party" was done. Marcus had seen that there were three changing rooms and politely pointed this fact out to the Ranger. The Ranger simply said that there was no need to add to the bedlam in the back. Besides, he had time. He'd wait. Marcus shrugged and went back to change. When he came out, since he'd promised to let Susan see what he looked like in the tux, he found two civvies waiting as well.

Apparently, and unbeknownst to Marcus, the Ranger had very quietly threatened (while Susan had distracted Delenn) to emasculate the both of them if they had in any way insulted the modesty of his "Brother in Arms" while in the dressing area. The poor unfortunates decided it would be safer to wait until Ranger Cole was done and out of the shop. Especially when the shop owner started threatening to sic _"papà"_ and _"la famiglia"_ on them as well!

Marcus knew it would just get worse from here. How long was it to the engagement dinner again? Could he just wait in here? Oh, Valen! What horrendous crime in a past life was he being punished for?


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Teas, Teasing and Taisers

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel "Birthdays, Conniving Chiefs, Doctors and Tailors – Oh My!". My, my, how will Neroon survive the courting intact? Will Marcus die of embarrassment?

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations. The Italian came from badly remembered high school lessons, please forgive any errors.

* * *

Teas, Teasing and Taisers

It had taken over an hour of cajoling to get Marcus out of the dressing room. Finally, after a direct order from Delenn, followed up by a threat from Susan to get Michael, the Ranger came out of hiding, to the relief of the poor tailor. When he came out, he kept up a tirade under his breath in _Lenn'ah_. No other Minbari language had enough profanity in it to suit his mood. Now that the acute embarrassment had faded, the rage had set in. He wanted vengeance, damn it! And, because Neroon's position depended on this charade, he couldn't get it. But, he could silently rant and dream!

Susan sent a sympathetic look to the Ranger. "Marcus, I know that you wanted to have something of your past remain your own, but stop blaming Michael for blurting it out this morning. You know that he's just acting out of concern for both you and Neroon. After all, wouldn't Neroon's enemies on the Warrior Caste Council attack his character and ability to lead if they could somehow spin this to where both his honor and yours could be called into question?" Susan said as they left the shop after picking out the accessories for his tux and signing for the bill. She wondered where the hell Michael would be getting the credits to pay it from, but didn't want to say anything in front of Delenn.

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks. He suddenly saw the wheels spinning in the Chief's head. Oh, that man was more conniving, underhanded and downright sneaky than anybody he'd ever worked with in EFI! The Chief had gotten his pound of flesh and put paid to any budding rumors all in one move! Ah, yes! He'd even cut off any of Shakiri's possible complaints at the knees! How could that bloody bastard even think of suggesting that Neroon had let himself be seduced by a "Human tart" if everybody in known space thought Marcus to be an "innocent"? Damn, but Michael was good, real good! Hmm, maybe getting some pointers from "papa" wouldn't be such a bad idea.

But why did he have to make Marcus the poster boy for human self-control? And how the hell was he supposed to live up to that now that he'd found his soul mate? There had to have been another way. Damn you, Garibaldi!

"Marcus why have you stopped? Is anything wrong?" asked a concerned Delenn.

Marcus was immediately pulled from his thoughts. Now, how was he going to answer that question without giving away the plot? _"Think man, think!"_ he ordered himself. He took a look at Delenn. _"Oh, Boy! She's really concerned about something!"_ Marcus thought. He knew that he'd better make this good.

'It's nothing, _Entil'Zha_. Just a passing thought. Everything is suddenly so real for me. When Susan said "his and your honor" in such a context, our honor intertwined, it made me realize that Neroon's life and mine are now linked, and that we will be bonded… married, in the near future. I have been so alone for so long, well, I…" Marcus let the comment drift off with a duck of his head while trying for an innocent blush.

Delenn looked relieved and surprised at the same time after his answer. "Oh, Marcus," she linked her arm through his free one and they began to walk with her leading the three of them towards one of the more expensive cafés. "I had thought that you were getting, as you Humans say, "second thoughts". I am glad that you are not. But I did not know that you believed yourself to be so alone. I know that all those of your blood are gone. I know that the pain and sorrow of their passing is still with you. But all of us here on the station, we are all here for you. I know that John and I consider you a part of our family of the heart," she finished as they found a table and sat down.

"It's true, Marcus. Don't you know that _"bratko"_ is an old Slavanic slang word for both friend and kid brother?" Susan said and reached over to give his hand a friendly squeeze.

"And obviously, Mr. Garibaldi thinks of you as a son. Why else would everyone of his acquaintances treat you as such?" Delenn added, patting his shoulder.

Marcus coughed to cover his laugh. There was no need to tell Delenn that most of the people involved so far would do whatever Michael said because they didn't want to pay for bail out of lock-up, knee replacement surgery or, if what Marcus suspected now was true, a casket. Marcus could just kick himself! He should have figured it out sooner. That man was way too plugged into what went on in Down-Below and in the shadows. He'd never, and he meant NEVER, known another Security Chief that well plugged in, or one who had so many contacts.

Marcus looked up to answer Delen but was cut off. The waiter had walked up to their table then, only to be called over by the manager and sent on some errand. The manager came over to their table.

"Ladies, Ranger Cole. I hope you are all having a good shopping excursion?" They all gave a pleasant response. "Well, that's good to hear. Now, what would you all be interested in for your refreshments?"

Marcus chuckled. "Sir, here you see a Minbari, a Russian and a man descended of the British Isles. Now, what pray tell, what would we be interested in at 15:30 hours in the Station's afternoon?"

The manager chuckled. "Well, a restaurateur has to keep trying to get his clientele to try new things every once in a while. But, as you say, not with this crowd. A proper High Tea shall be served."

Marcus was a bit shocked. "Um…"

The manager cut him off. "High Tea, Ranger Cole. And your credits aren't any good here today. Think of this as our, my staff's and mine, engagement gift to you."

Marcus, as was Susan, was even more shocked. "I, I don't know what to say. Thank you," a flustered Marcus finally got out.

When the manager left, Delenn turned to the humans. "What is this "High Tea"?" she asked.

Susan explained. "In Europe, the continent that both the countries that Marcus and I are from are located on, there exists a tradition of having tea in the afternoon. It is usually served anywhere between 1400 and 1600 hours, depending on the country and culture. Well, unless you're French. Those people have no taste, like wine way too much, and have always walked to the beat of a different drummer. Besides, I don't think they want anything to do with something seen as British in origin."

Marcus took over from there. "All though it spread to the rest of Europe, the tradition did start in my forefathers' homeland. In the ancient past, the aristocracy served tea as a light afternoon meal and it spread from them to all walks of life. The British settlers carried the custom to all their colonies, and they each adopted it as their own. As the Royal Families of Europe intermarried, the custom went with the bride or groom. But no other country had adopted High Tea into its heart as Russia did. Hence my little bit of wit. Though, to this day, High Tea is still a truly British institution."

Delenn looked intrigued at their explanations. "That sounds quite interesting. But what makes High Tea so different?"

Marcus and Susan looked at each other. Susan answered. "Out here, absolutely everything! Most of what makes a good High Tea can't be bought, borrowed or stolen on B5. For instance, the tea itself is usually a true Chinese blend. The Third World War practically destroyed that industry and now those blends are considered luxury items even on Earth. Now try getting that on this station. Especially after the blockade we've just gone through with that _svinja,_ Clark."

"I wonder how they'll pull this off?" Marcus wondered.

They chatted and speculated on that topic for a bit while waiting. Soon two waiters, the manager and a woman who appeared to be the cook came out. They were all bearing trays full of delicacies. There even seemed to be two very different tea sets, one a traditional British tea set in a Wedgwood style and the other a Russian one in a traditional glass and sliver style. This was much more than a traditional High Tea! They came over and set up a small serving table next to theirs.

The cook spoke as after they set everything up. She spoke with a quite pronounced British accent. "Well, since we had all of you here, and I don't think that the Ambassador has ever had either version of High Tea, I thought I'd whip up both the Russian and British versions."

Susan and Marcus looked at everything and exclaiming at the variety and how had she found a way to get all of these wonderful treats? There was both a Russian preferred black tea blend and the traditional British Earl Grey. Why, there were real cucumber sandwiches, real salmon sandwiches and real savory bliny! Topped real sour cream – and – and caviar – REAL BALUGA CAVIAR! Oh my, fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate, apple pirozhky -- and honest to God butter shortbread with lemon curd! With real milk, Earth honeybee honey, and wedges of lemon for their teas! Where? How? How was this feast possible?!

The proud cook demurred and simply said that she had her ways. She turned to and explained the different foods to Delenn, and gave her opinion on what the Minbari would enjoy. She then turned to Marcus and eyed him up and down. "Now lad, I want you to eat as much as you can! You are far too thin to be able to hold off that big Warrior of yours until the wedding night!"

Delenn's jaw dropped. Marcus choked while Susan snorted. The cook held up her hand. "Now, I know what you are all going to say. Why ma'am, he's Minbari! He'd never break tradition! Well, my lad, that's all well and good, but he's still a soldier! And you, you poor dear, - and you too Commander - you've been forced to endure those brutes at far too close a range for too long! You should know by now how they all are!"

At this point, they'd gathered an audience from the surrounding tables. The females were all agreeing with the cook. The civilian males were smirking and looking a little self-righteous. The males in uniform, no matter the species, well, they all looked like they wanted to be elsewhere! The Centauri especially found themselves the recipients of more that a few dirty looks, as well as few covert and hissed warnings to stay away from Ranger Cole!

Marcus finally found his voice while Susan looked like she was about to choke in her napkin. Delenn was still struck dumb. "I thank you for your concern, ma'am. But I can assure you that the _Shai Alyt_ is a gentleman of the highest order. I am quite safe in his company. Also, Minbari tradition requires chaperones while the courtship lasts."

The Cook pishawed that statement. "That's what every bride has said for centuries lad, and we've always found ourselves being on the end of requests for elopement or having our chaperones – ahem – "neutralized" at inopportune moments. Now, what you need is a good taiser! I never let our girls or our son – He was a promise keeper, too. May the Lord bless his soul! – leave the house without one!"

Susan thought she'd better break in before the cook could suggest pepper spray, cattle prods, and a chastity belt for Neroon! "You know, I think that's a very good idea! I do own two. I'll loan you one Marcus!"

The cook nodded. "You are a very intelligent lady, Commander. You just keep our Ranger on the right path!" With that statement, the formidable cook turned and left.

The manager decided to add his two cents. "Or you could always ask the Chief to have one of his "family" be your chaperone."

"Well, he did say some thing about calling his aunt this morning," said Susan, trying to end this conversation.

The manager nodded. "Man's got a good head on his shoulders. No one is going to play fast and loose with one of his. Well, I'll let you get to your meal before it gets cold," he stated before he too turned and left.

Delenn's vocal cords finally began to work. "That was most… unexpected."

"Well, you know how fast news travels, here. Especially good gossip, and what's better gossip than that the Station's own White Knight getting engaged? Besides, hearing that something of the old ways having survived the War has got to have everyone cheered a bit. It's making them think that we can make it through the Shadows too. So, of course, they're going to do their part to keep Marcus "on the right path" as the cook said. Now, why don't we dig in?" Susan said as she began to serve.

Delenn looked very pensive at Susan's words. Marcus noticed. "_Entil'Zha_, please think nothing more of it. The past is in the past. As Neroon told me this morning when I was caught in old pain, "look towards the future". His expression turned mischievous. "Besides, now we have similar bits of gossip to share!"

Delenn took a sip of her tea. "Now, what would that be?"

"Why, what it is like to be courted by the leader of a powerful military organization!" Marcus said with twinkling eyes and an innocent expression on his face.

Susan chuckled and Delenn smiled. "Somehow Marcus, I don't think John's courtship of me will be such a source of gossip as Neroon's of you."

"Oh, and the Captain hasn't been seen holding your hand? I would say he has, and yet I don't see anyone trying to burn a hole through his arm for it!" Marcus groused quietly and playfully.

"Marcus! When have you been spying on us?! – Oh, wait, you said someone tried to shoot Neroon for taking your hand – and when did he do this?" Delenn babbled excitedly while lowering her voice and leaning in, like as schoolgirl sharing gossip about past dates with a friend.

Marcus shared a pointed look with Susan. He was glad he had cheered his _Entil'Zha_, but now he had to come up with a good story! "Well, he did ask my permission to proceed with the courtship last night. And he did say that he spoke to Michael before that, now who do you think accompanied him to my quarters? Well who else would have been there when he asked, other than Martag of course?" Marcus said nonchalantly.

"Oh, my! Martag was there too? All right, that is it! As your direct superior officer, I order you to "spill the beans" as John says!"

Marcus activated his coded comm, hoping to God and Valen Michael could either record or listen to the sheer bull he was about to shovel. "Well, I had just left to go back to quarters when I saw Neroon. He was waiting for me. He asked to accompany me on part of my walk, which I agreed to. As we got closer to my quarters Michael showed up as well. We continued on together. I was rather surprised, happily so, but still surprised. Neroon had never come to my quarters before, even in the company of another. You do know how much of a stickler he is for the rules?" he asked.

Delen nodded, and motioned of him to go on.

"Anyway, they came in, saw that I lived a rather Spartan lifestyle, and then both took me to task about it. After being told that I keep to myself too much, Neroon invited me to evening meal, with Michael attending too, of course." he said.

At this point he looked at Susan. She nodded. Good, she was with Michael for at least a bit after that nightmare in medlab. No one would be able to gainsay him.

"Well, go on!" Delenn said.

Marcus saw that they still had their audience. He knew then that he'd better make this good. He leaned in and dropped his voice conspiratorially. The noise level around them dropped as well.

"I was excited. I just knew that this meant that our relationship would be going to a new level. Of course I was nervous too. Very nervous, I mean, I hadn't told Neroon anything about my Vow before last night, I did not know what he would think of a Warrior who kept to such a Vow." Marcus went for an abashed and shy look at that point. "I didn't want to lose his respect as a Warrior, but I knew that I had to tell him that evening or I wouldn't be treating our relationship with the respect that it deserved."

"Well, I somehow managed to stutter out my acceptance and we left for the dinner. When we got there, the table had been set with a meal consisting of all my favorite Minbari dishes! I knew then that Neroon would formally ask for courtship. We sat down to the meal, and tried to start a conversation. Well, I should say Neroon and Michael tried to start a conversation. I was a nervous wreck! I didn't relax until Neroon made a joke about duct tape and Shakiri. It may have just been the release of tension, but I don't believe I have laughed that hard in a very long time!" He chuckled along with Susan and Delenn.

"When we have time, time I'll tell you where that comes from, and about the "sweat shirt" _Entil'Zha_ Sinclair left me and told me to wear every time I had to meet with Shakiri." Delenn said.

"Would it be the one that has, "I can fix anything! Where's the duct tape?" printed on it in both Standard and _Lenn'ah_?" Marcus said innocently.

Susan almost collapsed from laughter. "Oh, he didn't! Please tell me Jeff didn't duct tape Shakiri's mouth during one of their meetings! I know he kept threatening to, but I thought that even Jeff wouldn't go that far!"

"Oh, yes he did!" Delenn chuckled out while nodding emphatically. "He then taped him to the seat and took a still of that idiot of a Wind Sword in such a state. Jeffery then sent copies of the still to all the Warrior Caste Clan leaders with the caption _"This is how you can get a word in edgewise!"_ printed on them. He then proceeded to wear the "sweat shirt" to every meeting with the Warrior's Council after that. Shakiri lost so much face from that incident that it took only three meetings with the infamous shirt for him to be voted down from the position of _Shai Alyt_. After being embarrassed so thoroughly, it took the Clan Leaders a very long time to decide on Neroon. What made them finally choose him in the end was what he had to say for himself after his fight with Marcus," Delenn finished while still chuckling and smirking.

"The Minbari were right! That man deserved deification! From now on, I will bow my head and pray to him as well each time I light the Sabbath candle!" Susan said while trying to control her laughter.

"And Marcus has a tale to finish telling," Delenn said.

"Um, yes. I do, don't I?" the Ranger said in between chortles of his own. "Well, after dessert, Neroon became very serious, and I thought that he would ask for formal permission then. But then the door chime went off, and he answered. It was Martag. He had a box with him. Neroon took it from him and walked over to my seat. I knew what was coming and started trying to tell him about the Vow. Neroon knelt down beside me and just looked into my eyes. When I saw the expression in them, I – I felt like I was coming home. There was such a peace in my heart." Marcus did blush when he said this; for it was what he had truly felt when he had taken Neroon's outstretched hand the night before. Some smothered "oohs" and "aahs" could be heard around their table.

"Neroon brushed a fingertip against my cheek and said that he had known about the Vow for a very long time. Since he had decided to seek my attention. He said that knowing that I had the strength the keep such a vow made me the stronger of us. He..." Marcus broke off and looked around, and then leaned in closer to the others and dropped his voice to a bare whisper. There were some things these little gossips around them did not need to know! Both the ladies leaned in closer as well.

"He begged my forgiveness for not coming to me in the same state," Marcus whispered in an embarrassed way.

"Oh my! Well, what did you say?" Whispered Delenn excitedly.

"I said that there was no need for forgiveness. That we did not know of each other when he had made those decisions." Marcus leaned back and took on a stronger voice. "Well, he then opened the box. Inside was a single red Earth rose. He'd never given me a red rose before. When he held it out to me, he asked for official permission to court me. My hand trembled so badly when I took it from him, and I said... I said "_Vi'is a ma'fela na_"! I didn't believe a being could smile so brightly as Neroon did when he heard those words! Neroon called me _Zha'aia De'Sher_. In the heat of the moment, he took my hand and was about to place a kiss on my palm..."

Marcus was cut off by Delenn's intake of breath. "Oh! How utterly romantic and so like a Warrior, moving so quickly!"

Marcus pouted and huffed. "Well, it didn't happen. Michael had processed what I had said in Minbari, took a look at the situation, and pulled his PPG! The sound of it charging took all the romance out of the evening, I can tell you! And it stopped Neroon's actions quite quickly too! It didn't help that Martag stood over us clearing his throat and staring daggers at Neroon. I was packed off back to my quarters without so much as a goodnight kiss! As I left, I heard Martag and Michael verbally tearing strips off my poor fiancé's hide for his presumption!"

Both ladies chuckled at the ending of the story and the affronted look on Marcus's face. "Oh, well that might have been a tad bit of a disappointment. But Marcus, your words, they were so strong. Are already that sure?" Delenn asked.

"Yes," Marcus said firmly. "Yes, I am. Neroon is my soul mate. He is my heart's love, and will be my first and only true lover. Neroon will be my husband, in this life and in the next. I know this, as surely as I know that, no matter what planet you are on, the Earth's sun still rises in the east."

After that statement, the three dug into the their meal, to the disappointment of the slightly teary-eyed audience who had been hoping for more juicy gossip. Susan and Marcus convinced Delenn that since Marcus had shared so much of his courtship, Delenn was obligated to do so as well, which she did do in the spirit of the moment. The three spent a very enjoyable meal teasing each other and having Susan say at the end that she had better buy a new taiser for herself, since it looked like both Delenn and Marcus would be needing the ones she had, and quite quickly from the sound of it!

* * *

Security Chief Michael Garibaldi sat behind his desk, chuckling. His companion, one Minbari Warrior Caste Chief Aide by the name of Martag, was shaking his head. Both were quite happy at how well Marcus could think on his feet.

"Well, that boy can sure as hell spin a good yarn," Michael said.

"A very good performance. There was just enough truth in that extremely large misdirection…"

Michael cut Martag off. "Whopper of a fish story, Martag. That was a lie that a even rug can't beat."

"Yes, well, as I was saying, there was just enough truth in that story that it will cover any of the servants' gossip about preparing the evening meal for last night. The only thing that might trip him up are your whereabouts of last night," Martag said.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, Martag," Michael replied. "All you need to know is that know is that no one will be able to gainsay that story. As long as no one remembers whether or not they saw me walking to the V.I.P section, we should be fine. And even if someone says they saw me someplace else, well Marcus gave no timetable, or said when the dinner ended. Gives us a lot to work with. Plus, it'll be their word against the word of the _Shai Alyt_, his top aide, the Station Chief, and the _Anla'Shok_ Champion."

"That is all true. _Anla'Shok_ Cole covered as many avenues of questioning as possible," Martag said.

"Do you think your boss can get that load of bull memorized by tonight? We all need to be telling the same lies," Michael stated.

"Neroon will have this memorized by tonight. Even if that means that I have to open up that thick skull of his and poor the story in!" Martag said firmly.

"Good, now let's get the rest of the damn meeting and security itinerary worked out. God! I hate planning a war and a wedding at the same time! I really need to give the Skipper more credit. I have no idea how the hell John is doing all this!" Michael stated in an exasperated voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Shopping, Sheridan, and Secrets

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy, Drama

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel "Teas, Teasing, and Taisers". Has Neroon finally found an ally, and how the hell has he done that!?

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations. The Italian came from badly remembered high school lessons, please forgive any errors.

* * *

Shopping, Sheridan, and Secrets

Neroon had finally made it to Sheridan's office. The _Shai Alyt_ groaned as he waited for a very nervous Lt. Corwin to announce him. By the Ancients! And the human's said that they didn't have complicated rituals! Fighting the Shadows was less strenuous than following the rituals of a Human courtship!

Because of these rituals, he had taken a trip to the Zocalo to order the _claddagh_. And that had entailed a detailed search for the correct type of _claddagh_ ring. Which entailed a slight hack into someone's cultural database to find out exactly which branch of the Cole family Marcus was from, and then guessing at Marcus's ring size. Neroon had been profusely thanking Valen by that point that the jeweler owed the Chief. If it had been anyone else, he'd never have been able to explain why he didn't know all of this information already! Then the jeweler had given him a lecture as on to what hand, finger, and how to properly place the ring on Marcus's finger, so that it showed the correct status of the Ranger; that of someone who is betrothed. Neroon asked to have the ring delivered to his quarters as soon as it was ready.

Then, after nearly giving Neroon an aneurysm over the price of the ring, the jeweler asked him what kind of "boutonnière" he was giving Marcus tonight. At Neroon's puzzled look, the shopkeeper explained. And that led to a trip to a florist shop. Apparently, it was proper to present Marcus with a "boutonnière" when he arrived to escort him to the engagement dinner.

When the Warrior arrived at the florist's shop, he was greeted by such a story! The Warrior wondered at how could gossip and rumor spread that fast. Neroon had been completely confused by what the shop owner was talking about, but nodded and played along. Then, he casually asked if a proper boutonnière could be made for that evening. The florist asked if he still wished to use the "language of flowers". Neroon had no clue as to what the man was talking about, but decided that continuing to play along would best, and said yes. Neroon had made sure to ask his guard, in _Lenn'ah_ of course, to have a crystal on the subject sent to his quarters when the florist was busy another customer. If everyone believed he knew this subject, it was best NOT to dissuade them of this notion.

Then, before the florist could drag him into a long, drawn out discussion of Earth flora, he said that the arrangements he had seen when coming in had impressed him, and that as a Warrior, he had no place to impose his opinions on a master of his craft. Neroon said that of course he would be happy with the type of boutonnière that the "Master Florist" believed appropriate. That had the florist beaming. Neroon then asked to have it delivered to his quarters as soon at it was ready. And after the gouging he had received at the jeweler's, the Warrior didn't even ask the cost. He simply signed off on the bill without looking. Neroon was sure it would be less painful that way.

One of his junior aides had then caught up with Neroon and his guards after that purchase. That had led him back to the Chief's office. After hearing the tale that Marcus had spun for the _Entil'Zha_, the greetings and questions he had received began to make sense. Then the Warrior had to go through and memorize that tale Marcus had told Delenn. Neroon smirked to himself the entire time he went about his task. By the Centauri's Great Maker, but his future _mala _was creative!

Neroon was pulled from his thoughts when "Please come in," came from the interior of the office.

Corwin ushered Neroon in and then promptly left. Neroon bowed to Sheridan. "Captain. I am grateful that you could find this time to meet with me."

"Neroon, please, come in and sit down," Sheridan said as he got up from his desk and gestured towards the small conference table in his office. He then walked of to a cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of some sort. "Since I have a feeling that this isn't in regards to the Shadows or other business topics, perhaps you would share a drink with me? Don't worry; this is sparkling water with citrus juice. There's no alcohol in it at all."

"I would be enjoy some refreshment. After this day, even I need a respite," Neroon said as he took a seat.

Sheridan chuckled. "Yes, I think I know how you feel. I went through something similar when I was getting together with my first wife," Sheridan said as he walked over to the table placed a full glass before Neroon and then sat down with his own.

Neroon inclined his head. "May Anna Sheridan's soul walk in that place where no shadows fall."

Sheridan nodded accepting the Minbari form of condolence. "I hope that she may as well. But, I spoke of my first wife, Elizabeth. May she rest in peace too."

Neroon was stunned. No one had told him that Sheriden had had another _mala_ before Anna Sheridan! Neroon was curious as to the full identity of this Elizabeth, but would not press. To do such a thing would be both inconsiderate and dishonorable.

Sheridan took in the barely concealed curiosity of the Warrior before him, and decided to share a bit of himself with him. Hopefully, it would stop any more tension between them. The Captain took a drink, and then started talking.

"Elizabeth and I married young. We were still in the Academy when we met. We were the top students of our class. We competed against each other in everything. After our freshmen year, our respect for a competitor changed to friendship, and then to love. I won't say Liz was my first love, but she was my first passionate love. Ah, God! But she was beautiful! My Liz had as much fire as Ivanova, Michael's humor, and as much ability as Sinclair. And a pair of eyes a man could drown in. Let alone that long brown mane of hers. Anyway, we married right after graduation. I was assigned to the _Lexington_ and she to the _Rossoff_. Then the War broke out..." Sheridan stopped talking then. He was staring into his glass, lost in memory.

Neroon paled. He knew the story of the _Rossoff_. It came out after the Earth-Minbari War had ended. The _Rossoff_ had been practically dead in space, yet the _Rossoff's_ Captain had placed her between a convoy of Human refugees and the oncoming Minbari _Sharlins_, one of which was the _Drala'Fi_, the _Black Star _in Standard. It was said that the already crippled _Rossoff _had held the _Sharlins_ long enough for the convoy to enter hyperspace. Then the _Black Star_ had destroyed her. As with all Minbari offensives in space, there had been no survivors. Neroon looked even more closely at Sheridan. Neroon saw that the human still keenly felt the pain of that first loss.

After noticing Neroon's look, the Captain picked his tale. "Liz was supposed to be on that convoy. You see, we had been able to get together at the Neptune substation for a weekend of R&R almost three months prior. Her medical officer had just run a physical on Liz a week before. She was with child. The _Rossoff_ was meeting up with the convoy to set her off. We were bad off as a species, Neroon. Every life was becoming more and more precious. They weren't going to send a pregnant woman back into war."

Sheridan's voice cracked at that point. After swallowing hard, he went on in a voice thick with tears. "We had just come off an engagement and had been running silent for over three days. I hadn't been able to access any of my messages in that time. I got an enthusiastic message from Liz about the baby only a few hours before the notice that the _Rossoff_ had been lost with all hands. She never made it off. The attack group showed up before they could get her shuttle off. The Captain had no choice. He had to put the _Rossoff_ between the civilians and the _Sharlins_."

To say that the Warrior was uncomfortable when Sheridan finished his story would be an understatement. Neroon didn't know what to say to this. How could a man forgive the deaths of his _mala_ and unborn child? How could he now work so well with the Minbari Warrior Caste? In Valens's name, how could he fall in love and court a Minbari – let alone the Minbari that ordered the war? Did Sheridan even know of Delenn's involvement in the Earth-Minbari War?

Sheridan picked up his story again. "I wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out when I heard what happened. I couldn't though. We had just lost our Captain to injuries sustained in a firefight with one of your battle groups. I had been given a field promotion and the command of the _Lexington_. The fact that everyone's lives on that ship depended on me kept me semi-sane. I say semi-sane because I was getting lost in my fury, in my need for vengeance. Hell, Captain Ahab had nothing on me. I wanted my whale so bad I could taste it. I went to bed at night to dreams of my unborn child screaming out its death, and woke to even more hate filling my heart."

Neroon did not understand the literary analogy, but he understood Sheridan's pain and his need for vengeance. All of Minbar had felt it when Dukhat had died. A sudden thought came to Neroon, making him shiver in dread. He looked into the haunted eyes of the Human Captain and knew that he was right.

"The _Drala'Fi_. It was no chance engagement. You were hunting her," he said with certainty.

Sheridan looked at him, and for the first time, Neroon saw the face of "StarKiller". And it terrified him as no Shadow ever could. It terrified him because the Warrior knew that this was a monster his people had created. And may Valen and the Universe help them if he took the knowledge and technology they'd now given him and turned it against them!

"Yes," Sheridan answered in a cold voice. "When I'd reached the end of my rope, I forged orders from EarthDome, and told my people we were going hunting. I told them that we were ordered to run silent and that it was our job to get rid of the most dangerous ship in the Minbari fleet. I told those poor, deluded kids that HQ had ordered us to do it or die trying," Sheridan broke off his story then and laughed harshly, mirthlessly.

"If you want me to go on, I need something stronger than soda," he finally said after his laughter had died down and the tears had started again.

When Neroon said nothing, he got up to get another bottle from the cabinet behind his desk. Sheridan then poured himself a double shot of bourbon and slugged it back. He came back, sat down, and went on with the story.

"Those innocent kids under my command swallowed that set of lies hook, line, and sinker. They even pledged themselves to me and to the "mission". It took me weeks to find the _Black Star_ and days to get her _Alyt_ to swallow the bait I set out. But, finally, he did – it was he wasn't it?" Neroon nodded. "Well, I got the son of a bitch to do exactly what I wanted, and then I sent him and the rest of the bastards that took my family from me to HELL!" Sheridan stopped to collect himself again.

"And then, when the adrenaline and alcohol wore off, I came back to some of my senses. And I had to live with what I had done. I basically took my ship and my crew on a suicidal mission for personal vengeance. I had endangered hundreds of lives in my need for personal vengeance. I had also taken us all AWOL."

"And, and I had done the same thing that the _Alyt_ of the _Black Star_ did. I killed a ship that was dead in space. I had become a murderer. Not even a _Sharlin_ could recoup from the detonation of a ten-megaton tactical warhead right in front of it. The shock wave alone would have destroyed a vessel of any of the other younger races. They were blind, no shields, no working live armor, and their weapons were dead. She was listing heavily. We knew that most of the crew was alive - the sensor blocking systems were down too - when I gave the order to open all systems on her. I had killed thousands of helpless beings."

There was another silence as Sheridan collected himself yet again. Neroon saw the Human glance at the cabinet with the alcohol. The Warrior would not have minded if he had gotten another drink at this point. Frankly, if there was a beverage around that would have the same effect on him as alcohol would on humans, he'd have taken some as well.

"When we came back and reported in, EarthDome only saw the victory, they developed a VERY convenient case of amnesia as to where those orders of mine came from. They gave us all commendations and official promotions. I was hailed a tactical genius and a hero of Humanity. And the crew that I had almost insanely killed off began to worship the ground I walked on." Sheridan laughed harshly again. "Now, and now, the people that I warred against are looking to that "tactical genius" to save the whole galaxy from the Shadows."

There was a long and rather uncomfortable pause before the Captain snorted and went on. "Now, I know that you didn't come in here to hear me tell old war stories, or to hear me bitch either. Sorry about that."

Neroon inclined his head. He was still stunned by the story. But, he was beginning to understand the Human now. "Do not concern yourself, Captain. In issues such as this, only another Warrior can even begin to listen or understand. I am honored that you chose to share your burden with me," Neroon paused, trying to find the right words. "Know that all you have said will be treated as if you were sharing a secret for the _Na'fak Cha_. No others will know of this conversation if you do not wish it."

Sheridan sighed, and inclined his head. "I thank you for that. I plan on telling Delenn if there comes a time when she needs to know about all of this. But, right now, if she were to find out about Liz and the baby, the guilt would kill her."

Neroon shot a very surprised look at the Captain at that statement.

Sheridan simply raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "Don't be surprised at that statement. I know Delenn, and I also know of her. Do you really believe that our intelligence operatives are that bad that they can't identify the _Satai_ of the Minbari?" he asked a bit condescendingly.

When Neroon didn't respond, he went on. "Oh, yes, I know who ordered the War. I also know that the guilt she feels for those orders has been killing her inside. She's just now coming to terms with it. And I am NOT going to open that old can of worms again if I can help it," Sheridan finished.

Neroon was stunned again. If Sheridan knew about Delenn, then how was he able to forgive her? How had he fallen in love with the woman that had ordered the whole mess to begin with? He looked at Sheridan with a confused expression, unable to even form a coherent sentence in order to ask his question.

Sheridan picked up on it. "How can I forgive, is that what you want to know? How can I love her? Well, that is easy to answer. First off, if you really want to understand, read the New Testament of the Bible. It will tell you the principles that I was raised on. Second, she isn't the same person spiritually that she was at the start of the War, and, neither am I. We've both changed and grown, and have our burdens from that. Third, I'm a sinner too, Neroon. I did the same exact thing that she did, only on a smaller scale. And the blood is directly on my hands. She gave the order, but your Caste took it to the levels that the War went to. In the end, Delenn even tried to stop the War, but your Caste wouldn't let her and the rest of the Grey Council end it, at first anyway. Did you know that?" he asked.

Neroon shook his head no.

"Yeah, well, after we came back from the _Black Star_ they sent me out with G'Kar to try and broker a peace with your people. They thought that a successful Warrior might get some respect." Both men snorted at that. "Yeah, that's what I thought too. Anyway, the person we were to meet with was Delenn. We were brought to the meeting place bound and blindfolded. No one muffled us though. What your people didn't know at the time was that we had already deciphered _Lenn'ah_, and EFI did a Psi-plant of it into my head before I left. Your Warrior _Satais_ broke in and gave it all away to me. After Delenn had literally begged for the War to end and basically been told to take herself back to the temple and shut up…"

"That sounds exactly like something Shakiri and the others would have said," Neroon broke in.

"Don't we all know it! Anyway, after that, the three idiots - sorry, but to me they will always be blood thirsty idiots who wanted the genocide of a beaten race – the three idiots ordered my death and that of G'Kar. We only made it out alive because of Delenn. She had her people sneak us out before the orders were carried out. We came back to Earth and basically told them to prepare for the worst. Our people then had EFI sneak G'Kar out of our space, and we as a species began to fortify for the Line. And then I met Anna. The rest is well known history."

Neroon thought over what Sheridan had said. He added it to what he knew of Marcus and his past, and of the Chief and what he now knew of the man and of Human society through their talk earlier that day. And then Neroon began to finally form an understanding, dim though it was, of Humanity. Finally, he spoke.

"I take it that Delenn did not recognize you?" he said.

"No. And when and/or if the time comes for her to know, I will tell her," Sheridan smirked. Then his expression hardened and "StarKiller" came back. "Know this Neroon, I killed in cold blood before, and I did it in vengeance. To protect her, I'll do it again. I won't even quibble about it. I'll take that burden and live with the consequences. And, my friend, that is another trait of humanity you had better get used to if you truly want to marry one of us."

Sheridan came to the fore again. "Now, I want to get back to the topic I think you came to talk about. From the looks on everyone's faces this morning, I take it that the Chief had, um, how should I put this? That the Chief found you in a rather delicate position when you proposed, yes?"

Neroon groaned. He had hoped that Sheridan hadn't been able to pick up on that. Well, at least he could rely on some of Marcus's little tale here. He just had to make sure that he and Sheridan both stuck to the story that Marcus concocted for the public.

"Yes, you are correct. It's more of what Marcus had said though, than any unacceptable actions on either of our parts. Marcus accepted my suit with the words, _"Vi'is ah' ma'fela na",_ meaning them in the future and current tense, meaning them both as future lover and current betrothed. But the Chief, well…"

Neroon left off the story when Sheridan started laughing. After he got his breath back, the Captain said, "Oh, that poor, innocent kid! He set you up for one hell of a beating without even knowing it! Now, I know that what Marcus said was bad, but you must have done something to give the Chief evidence of a seduction!"

Neroon flushed as he remembered his wake up call. "Well, the Chief had walked in on a rather, um, "passionate" kiss while Marcus was still in medlab. And before you ask, no one was there. And yes, I DO know that we should have been chaperoned, and that taking such liberties is my fault, I do know it. But, in Valen's name! I am an adult. I both love and respect Marcus. I would never dishonor him. I can control myself, and I am thoroughly SICK of hearing that Shadow-be-damned PPG of his charging! Could he at least say something before pulling it?!" The Warrior groused.

Sheridan began laughing again. He laughed until he cried. When he was done, he gave a shake of his head and said, "I think I know why you are here. You want me to run some interference between the Chief and the two of you, AND keep Delenn off your back?" Neroon nodded, and Sheridan went on. "O.K. I can do that. I know the Chief can be obsessive, and Delenn is like a hen with one chick when it comes to Marcus. Just do me a favor, and don't screw up and get caught with the hanky-panky any more!"

At Neroon's surprised and flushed look, Sheridan just knew that he was right! "Now, I'm damn sure that the kiss was more than just passionate, if the Chief was willing to scream "Promise Keeper" at the top of his lungs this morning. Well, at least he didn't walk in while you two were, um, "fully occupied" as Liz's dad did to us."

Neroon gasped and flushed again. Did Sheridan just say what he thought he said? He former heart-father had found him in bed with his Elizabeth, BEFORE their bonding? Oh, but that was just too ironic! Neroon laughed as well. At least he knew he wasn't alone in the "thinking with the wrong head" department as the Chief had said earlier. When he finished laughing, he decided to let Sheridan know something closer to the truth. Both men took a drink, and then Neroon spoke.

"You are correct in you assessment of the kiss, Captain, and let's just say that I can also completely relate to your mortification in that moment that you mentioned. Also, you are quite correct in the guesses I am sure you have made in regards to the Chief's views on my abilities to control myself around his adopted son."

Sheridan choked on his drink. "Did you just say what I thought you said?" he asked in a desperate need to hear something other than what he heard.

"Yes, Captain. You heard me correctly. Chief Garibaldi has adopted Marcus in the manor of his people," Neroon said.

"Oh, FUCK!" Sheridan blurted out. "Sorry, Neroon. Please forgive the profanity. Um, That was a bit of a surprise that's all. Oh, and please call me John when we aren't doing the political thing. After what we've just told each other, you've earned it," Sheridan said.

"Thank you, John. As to the profanity, I had my ears ringing with it this morning as the Chief pointed out some politically incorrect steps I had taken to me. One word won't insult me," Neroon said. Neroon conveniently forgot the rest from John's earlier story telling.

"And that would be something to do with Shakiri?" John asked shrewdly.

Neroon inclined his head. Sheridan was quick! "Yes, but it is of no concern, now. The Chief and my aide, Martag, have taken care of it."

"Well, that's good. But, with Marcus now being a part of "_la famiglia Garibaldi_", it changes things, a whole hell of a lot of things. Neroon, they are an old and very powerful family back on Earth, and everywhere else in our sections of known space, except maybe for the Minbari Federation. They just aren't what we call, um, "savory". I have to ask you, do you know what you are getting yourself into?" Sheridan asked in all seriousness.

Neroon nodded, serious as well. "Yes John, I know of what you speak of. Because of my stupidity, Mr. Garibaldi had to go to the lengths that he did. Also, the power that you speak of will help when it comes to any, shall we say, "unpleasant" rumors that Shakiri may start in order to unseat me. And I do know of what I am getting myself - and the Caste for that matter - into. It has been pointed out to me in great detail by Commander Ivanova, Mr. Garibaldi, Martag, and even the jeweler making Marcus's betrothal _claddagh_."

Neroon smirked. "I am fully aware that - now what is that saying that the jeweler used? - Oh, yes. I am fully aware that by courting and then being bonded to Marcus, that I will in essence also be "married to the mob".

Sheridan choked, and then laughed hysterically. Oh, God! But to hear a Minbari say that! A Minbari _Shai Alyt_ and _Satai_ no less! It was just too much! After a bit, Neroon joined in the laughter, appreciating the irony of what he had just said. When they finally calmed down, John went back to another tidbit that had come from Neroon.

"You said that you are having a ring made for Marcus?" He asked.

"Yes, it should be done by now. I will present him with it this evening. It is custom for the one who brings suit to give their intended a gift of some import at the start of their courtship. This custom you Humans have of presenting your intended with a ring fits nicely with ours," Neroon said.

"Hmm, I gave Delenn two dozen red roses, and took her to dinner at _Fresh Aire_. Would that count?" he asked.

"Yes, such a meal is very appropriate. All though, the meal would normally be given at the suitor's home, with chaperones from both sides present. Of course, such things are not possible for the two of you. Delenn's status as _Entil'Zha_ and former _Satai_, as well as Ambassador puts her above the reproach of anyone here, and you are this Station's Commander. To gainsay either of you would be unheard of by any Minbari. To take your courtship public is your best option so that you are not impugned," Neroon said.

"Well, that's good. You know, I have been trying to find a ring for Delenn for weeks now. With no luck. Can I asked the name of the jeweler you used?" Sheridan asked.

Neroon gave him the flimsy that he still had with him for some unknown reason. When Sheridan saw it, he whistled. "Damn! I don't even want to know what a custom job from him would cost! Good God, you went to the great-great-great-grandson of A.C. Tiffany himself?"

"I was told that he was the best," Neroon said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, he is. He's probably best at the art in the entire Earth Alliance. I still don't know what he is doing on this barge. I know that even with promoting his work and the family name to the rest of the races can't be all the reason he's here," Sheridan said.

Neroon was silent. He had nothing to say on the matter. All though, a suspicion of why the jeweler was here, and the reach and power of the Garibaldi family was starting to form in his mind. He knew better than to voice it though. While Neroon thought, Sheridan had looked up at the time display, and gasped.

"Neroon, we'd better be going. I need to meet with Corwin before I go off shift, and then I need to get ready, get her flowers picked up, and pick up Delenn. And you need to get ready and then you need to pick up Marcus. And neither of us can to be late! Our fiancés will have our heads if we are!"

Neroon concurred, and then they both left the office. As they left the Captain's office, they groused about timetables, courtships on top of wars, demanding fiancés, and inconsiderate chaperones. This had Neroon's guards and the C&C staff who could hear them smirking. It was nice to know that the head honchos could be mortal, well at least sometimes!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Family, Families, and "Families"

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy, Drama

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name it; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel "Shopping, Sheridan, and Secrets". What's a poor Ranger to do?

Acknowledgments: I must thank ckl for taking the time to beta read this story.

_Author's Note:_ One Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" website in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary, though not all are direct translations. The Italian came from badly remembered high school lessons, please forgive any errors.

* * *

Family, Families, and "Families"

After one of the most "interesting" afternoons Marcus had ever experienced, not to mention most luxurious teas that he had ever had the pleasure to dine on, he had finally been able to extract himself from the company of Susan, Delenn and the well meaning but still over-bearing Zocalo crowd. Marcus had used all the clandestine skills he possessed and slipped away unseen from the Zocalo. This escape had let the put upon Ranger finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He had then taken his purchases, _"Well, the Chief's purchases,"_ Marcus had thought to himself, back to his quarters. And that's where the poor man had found out that his relief and privacy were both very short-lived indeed. Zack Allen and two other, and rather large at that, security officers had met him in the corridor in front of said quarters. At the looks, _"I should really say smirks,"_ Marcus thought to himself, on the "gentlemen's" faces, the Ranger knew immediately that whatever they were there for would not bode well for him.

And his gut instinct had been oh so terribly right. Zack and the two other security officers were there to help Marcus move! The Chief had decided that having his "adopted son" living so close to Down-Below was asking for more trouble than having a Ranger in that proximity was worth. When Marcus began to argue, the Chief's 2IC simply smirked even more widely, held out his hand and gave him a flimsy from Michael.

Marcus had then glared at the offending flimsy. He knew that if he took it and read it that there would be no way that he would able to avoid the move and whatever other bad news that may be coming. So, Marcus continued to glare at the offending item as if that death glare would make it go up in smoke. Finally, after admitting the futility of his actions to himself, Marcus snatched the flimsy from Zack and opened it. It read:

_P.I.T.A.,_

_Before you go off half-cocked and send my men to medlab in pieces, use your God-given brain and think for a minute! Don't develop the same mental deficiency your idiot of a fiancé has! Now that everything that can be made public is out in the open, this move is MANDATORY! _

_O.K., kid, I'm laying the cards on the table for you. One, I don't think you're stupid or that naive. You wouldn't have survived EFI or Jeff's Rangers if you were. So by now, knowing you, you have concrete proof as to who and what I really am. You also know NOT to make it "public" public knowledge, if you catch my drift. Let's keep all that "officially" on the Q.T., shall we?_

_Two, since your Minbari idiot F-ed up politically – and in major proportions – this morning I've had to name you my "adopted son" to help do damage control. Kid, we both know that Jeff's personal Wind Sword scratching post is going to raise one hell of a stink over you and pike boy getting together. We may need the families' contacts on this one if the manure hits the fan the way I think it will. _

_Now, what that means is this; you not only have to deal all your own ghosts and enemies from all you've done and still have to do in the line of duty, but now you're the target of mine and those of "la famiglia" as well. And, on top of that, you've got your bone-headed boy toy's enemies gunning for you too. So, you're moving in with me._

_I've got the Skipper's permission to move us to the diplomatic sector for the duration of this damned brew ha ha. Hence, you, me, and my great Aunt - who IS going to be one of your chaperones along with your old pike teacher - are all going to be one big happy nuclear family until you're hitched to the idiot Grand Pooba. Now, be a good little Ranger, and let my men move you into the new digs WITHOUT sending them back to me looking like a deconstructed erector set, capisci!?_

_Your new "papà",_

_Michael_

_P.S._

_Three, you're also moving in here because I don't trust that bone-headed, xenophobic, mentally deficient, walking erection of a Warrior - and previously proven temper volcano (he and I WILL be discussing such things as duels to the death and attempted homicide) - any farther than I can throw B5!! Oh, and I'm sure I don't need to write this, but just to be COMPLETELY sure, if there is a repeat performance of this morning - not to mention last night - BEFORE the right times/ceremonies, THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY - for BOTH of you!! __**Capisci!?**_

Marcus read, then reread the note, choked, swore, swore some more in a myriad of languages, and finally groaned. The security team was now not only smirking; they were now also openly chuckling at his reaction. Oh, merciful heavens! Bleeding, buggering, bloody hell! Why him? What had he done in his past life to deserve this?! He was now officially a scion of an old LCN family. His birth family had to be rolling in their graves!

Then Marcus processed the rest of the letter, and shuddered in dread. Garibaldi planned ANOTHER skinning for Neroon and … oh God! Marcus reread the note again, hoping beyond all hope that panic had made him make a mistake in reading it. No, he'd read right it the first few times. Master Durhann and an Old School Mafia Princess were going to be his courtship chaperones! Oh, God and Valen! This was the stuff of nightmares - and the kind of thing that started intergalactic wars! The poor Ranger knew in his gut that all hell would break loose the minute the two so-called "elders" arrived. He really wasn't ticked off about the need to move, but the idea of Michael's Great Aunt and the venerable old Denn'bok Master chaperoning himself and Neroon, well THAT had him hyperventilating! And then the real danger of that morning's fiasco came crashing down on the Ranger. That's when the shaking and choked whimpers started.

_"Oh, God, Valen, Velaria, Great Maker, G'Quan, Jeff, Jesus, all the saints and angels, the entire Heavenly Host and any other deity out there listening – uh, and you too Elvis, PLEASE, PLEASE DON"T LET MASTER DURHANN FIND OUT ABOUT EVERYTHING! I don't want to be beaten to within an inch of my life – again!"_ Marcus prayed silently and fervently.

After some minutes of shear panic Marcus slowly, and to the further amusement of the security team, finally pulled himself together. He reread the missive again in some vain attempt of making it say something else entirely, which of course didn't work. Marcus sighed to himself. He tried to look at the situation as positively as possible. Well, he and Neroon were both adults as well as professional soldiers. They had both survived horrific situations in the wars they had faced. Compared to that, this shouldn't be that difficult. They could get through this courtship physically intact - and also keep the peace between the Station, Earth Alliance and Minbari Federation. The poor Ranger kept saying that to himself over and over for the next several minutes as he tried desperately to convince himself of it. When he'd almost convinced himself to believe that lovely piece of fiction, he thought through what the rest of the missive said.

Oh, yes. Marcus was now more than sure as to what other positions Michael held. And that had him worried, very worried. A man that had the GROPO, EA Security, and EFI contacts that Marcus knew Michael did was dangerous to start with. A man that had the war record that Jeff had told Marcus Michael did was someone the galaxy as a whole usually feared as badly as they feared the Shadows. A man that had all that and held "that" office on top of everything else, was Death's Avatar walking.

And now Marcus was his "official heir". Oh, how absolutely, fantastically bloody lovely! The Ranger was completely nauseated at what he might have to do in the name of that office; an office he that knew wasn't one he could ever step down from voluntarily and/or alive. This brought The War and all of his time in the service(s) crashing down on the Ranger. Marcus didn't want to remember everything he'd done, or to think about what he might still be forced to do in the name of "Duty". The Ranger grimaced. To Marcus, the word "Duty" had become a profanity more vile than any other.

He snorted to himself. What would the Station say if they knew what kind of cold, sick bastard their "White Knight" really was? What would they say if they knew just how many times he's whored his principles for that damned word "Duty"? After everything he'd been forced to do in order to safeguard Humanity, was it any wonder that he'd clung to the ideal of chastity until marriage so dearly? And just look at how quickly he'd almost thrown that away! If it hadn't been for Neroon's self control, even that last untarnished tiny part of his soul would have been defiled.

Again, Marcus felt disgusted with himself. Good God! What was one barely held virtue worth when weighed against an entire host of vices? Who was he trying to kid? He was no better than the rest of "la famiglia". Marcus gritted his teeth and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat as he thought of that. With his blacked out service record, he was bloody well perfect for the job as their "official heir". He'd sabotaged, lied, cheated, stolen, blackmailed, intimidated, and practically tortured prisoners in the name of "interrogation"; and of course he'd "neutralized" targets for EarthForce, EFI, and the Rangers. That went without mentioning those poor bastards he'd been forced to kill in actual combat! What's ordering those types of actions compared to carrying them out? What's the bloody damned difference as to who and what those targets were going to be now? He'd damned his own soul long before Arisia had been destroyed, let alone what his hubris had done there!

Marcus shut down his train of thought before he fell apart, continuing to dwell on the past wouldn't help anything. He mentally went back to the Chief's note. Ah, as for the move, well this part of the letter really didn't surprise him. He'd just hoped to avoid the issue for a bit more. All in all, Marcus knew that the Chief was right about the security issues and had known that at least Neroon would have insisted on him moving in due time. The Ranger though, hadn't thought that the Chief would pre-empt the Shai Alyt. Marcus snorted to himself again. After this morning, he should have known better! Knowing that the Chief was right didn't make him feel any better about having to move, but it helped the Ranger make the decision to let the security team help move his things with only token grumbling once he'd broken out of his depressing reverie.

Since Marcus lived rather spartanly, the four men were able to pack up his belongings and move them to the new, and in Marcus's opinion, excessively luxurious quarters in a little more than an hour. Marcus had been rather shocked to see where the Captain had placed them for the duration of the courtship. The Ranger had to be shoved out of the way when he had entered the new quarters because of his shock. Marcus's, well the Chief's, new quarters were rather large. Guests were greeted directly into a decently sized living room. It was large enough for a centralized sofa, love seat, and lounge chair arrangement done in a soft mauve that had the expected tables and lamps to go with it. A dark gray woven rug anchored the living room.

To the right of the entryway, a frosted glass screen blocked off what turned out to be a slightly small, but rather well appointed kitchen. Marcus was sure that the Chief would love that feature. After that, there was an open dining area with a table large enough to seat six and matching chairs. The dining set, coffee, and end tables looked all to be made of the same dark and REAL wood.

There were three frosted glass doors coming off the living area. They each opened to one of three separate rooms. The largest was a very well appointed bedroom suite. The second largest was a single bedroom. And the third was a study that was slightly smaller than the single bedroom. It was in the process of being turned into a bedroom. The bedroom and study that was soon to be bedroom shared a small bath that, wonder of wonders, had a real water shower! If there was one thing that the Ranger loved about these quarters, it was that water shower. Marcus chose the converted study as his room. He knew that he and the chief would be in the single bedrooms without even having to ask. After all, it was only fair to have Michael's visiting, and elderly, Aunt have the suite.

As the four men began unpacking Marcus's things and putting them away, one of the security officers mentions his lack of effects. When Marcus stiffened, Zack laid into the offending security officer viciously about reminding the poor Ranger that his entire colony and birth family had been destroyed. The Chief himself interrupted this little event. Garibaldi walked in, stopped when he heard Allen's vicious tirade, and then barked out, "Quiet!" and the noise stopped. The Chief took a look around, and dismissed the offending officer. The Chief then ordered the second of the "gopher pair" to take guard duty outside the door. Once the Security Officer left, the Chief gave Zack a nod and his 2IC reached into his pocket for something. When Zack removed his hand from his pocket and nodded back to Michael, the Chief motioned for them all to be seated. Zack took the lounge chair while the Chief and Marcus took the couch.

Then Michael began to talk again, "O.K., well I know that this is becoming one hell of a dog and pony show."

Marcus groaned while Zack snickered at that comment. Marcus shot him a force ten death glare that made the poor 2IC pale. Michael got the two men's attention before things got ugly.

"No violence! Play nice kiddies! Now knowing who, what, when, and where - and all of that - that we're facing if we're tripped up in a lie, I think we need to cover some more bases before we head out for that party tonight. So with that out on the table, here are a few items that Martag and I have been able to cover while my sonny boy here…" Marcus interrupted the Chief with what he thought was a well-placed upper cut.

The older man dodged it with a speed that spoke of a man half his age while catching Marcus's fist in a powerful grip. The Chief then applied a very painful amount of pressure on the trapped fist. When Marcus was completely still due to both the pain and the look in the older man's eyes, the Chief gave him a warning the Ranger would never forget.

"Marcus, try that again and you'll find out why I held the GROPO hand-to-hand title for ten years - and for some of those years, mister, you were still in diapers. Got it?" Michael growled out.

It was Marcus's turn to pale while he nodded. Michael let go of Marcus's trapped fist at the silent nod. Michael's revelation released a torrent of emotions and thoughts within the Ranger; the main ones being of understanding, closer kinship, and pride in his abilities of observation. Ten years as the GROPO fighting champ over thirty years ago, and Michael didn't look to be more that a decade older than Marcus. Marcus knew well from his own biological father exactly what that meant. Marcus had already suspected it because of the youthful look of the Chief, a man over twenty years his senior, but now he was positive. Michael had been augmented.

Back in the days Marcus's father had served in EarthForce, the Earth Alliance had still been reeling from the horrors that they and the rest of the League had encountered during the Dilgar Wars. Therefore, they had looked for a way to make the "perfect soldier". The training regimens for the EF Special Forces back then had included every kind of physical and mental boost possible. The program didn't last. The sheer amounts of DNA and gene therapy combined with steroids, hormones, other drug cocktails, and both psi ability and shielding boosts had driven most of the troops involved practically insane – if it hadn't killed them first.

Marcus's own father had been one of the lucky ones. He'd lived and gotten out of the service with his mind intact and no PTSD. The changes had been permanent though. Also, some of the enhancements had been passed on to Marcus and his brother genetically. Which was why Marcus confused the hell out of Steven in regards to his healing abilities. Now, it looked like Marcus hand found another one of the lucky ones. Marcus tuned back into the conversation as he massaged his now very sore hand.

"O.K. now that we've all settled down, back to the topic at hand. Item one; since Marcus spun one lollapalooza of a cover story for us today, we're going to be using that for our little shindig here. Item two, getting everybody on the same page. Now, Zack I know that you don't know the whole bit, so here's the rundown. Neroon, being the idiot that he is, decided to ask Marcus out on a date last night." Zack smirked and opened his mouth to say something. "And before you say it, he's not an idiot for his taste in dates! Now, that normally wouldn't be problem, except the Warrior jackass very conveniently forgot that Minbari tradition and law both require a chaperone for something like that, especially for someone in his office. Then, just to make things more interesting, the over-sexed son of a bitch wined and dined our boy here into the sack!" Michael practically spat out.

A mortified Marcus broke at that point in with, "It wasn't like that!"

The Chief shot Marcus a look that would have promised him one hell of a hiding if it had been leveled on Marcus by his biological father in his teenage years. Mortification and fear just didn't cover what Marcus was feeling at that moment. Almost forgotten childhood self-preservation reflexes kicked in, and the poor Ranger found himself sinking into the couch in order to make himself a smaller target.

Once Marcus was once again properly cowed, the Chief went on, "Well, no it wasn't, I'll give you that. But it was bad enough without the home run! AND we all know what the Minbari think of THAT happening before the _Shan' Fal_! So, thanks to Martag catching them red handed," - Marcus was very well past mortified at being reminded of that morning and sunk even deeper into the couch - "we've now got the Minbari version of a shotgun wedding starring us in the face."

"On top of that, we've got to make sure that this doesn't become a scandal that Shakiri could use to unseat my soon to be jackass-in-law. AND, we've got to cover ours collective butts, because this could be used to restart Earth-Minbari War. Needless to say, we've been running like hell all day to come up with a back-story as well as cover any and all openings of attack that the psychopathic Wind Sword could use against us. Anyway, I've sent you an encrypted copy of what Marcus has cooked up so far. Make sure you pretty much have it memorized."

Zack snorted. "Got it. Anyway, I figured that it was something like that. You kind of made that a little obvious with the muttering this morning boss. No offense, but I read Marcus the riot act about restarting the War all by his lonesome this morning," he said while nodding to the now curled up and furiously blushing Ranger. "And I already took some initiative on the back story. I have some friends who... err... well, let's just say are into, uh, "cross-cultural exchanges", that have gotten me some copies of Japanese haiku written on real rice paper. They're written in original Japanese calligraphy, Standard calligraphy, and also in _Lenn'ah_. There's about a dozen of them. They were also able to um, "procure" a similarly written and leather bound copy of "The Art of War". After some of what you and the Commander were spewing this morning boss, I figured she, you and Marcus could use them to stage something."

Marcus, thinking fast, and seeing an opportunity to get the other men's minds off of his early morning indiscretion, jumped in. "Zack, you're a life saver! If I remember Minbari customs right, I need to give a gift to Neroon tonight, and I sure as hell haven't had a chance to get anything for him. Um, if you can get that book for me, I'll owe one hell of a favor!"

"Great! Now that that's all settled, we can go to item three. That's getting this fashion exile ready for tonight," Michael said while pointing to Marcus.

"Hey!" Marcus took exception to that derisive comment on his sense of style.

"Not a word, Marcus, not one more word. We all know that you run the minute someone mentions clothes and/or hair care," Zack sniggered at that all too true statement. "So, in order to get you spiffed up – WITHOUT having to catch you first and haul you back gagged, cuffed and trussed - enough for tonight, there's a barber coming here to get you fixed up." At Marcus's dark look, the Chief went on, "Remember, you're representing my family from now on, kid. He'll be here in about thirty minutes, so go get cleaned up and then he'll come in and work his magic," he ordered.

Marcus knew when he was beat. One of the Chief's men was outside the door on guard duty. Zack was in front of him. The Chief was sitting right next to him. There was nothing he could do but give in gracefully. And in the Ranger's book, giving in gracefully didn't mean he couldn't at least needle the Chief just a little bit.

"_Si, papa,"_ Marcus shyly murmured out with the most innocent and angelic look pasted on his face. All Marcus needed was a halo, (kept up with horns, of course) and the picture would have been perfect.

Zack roared with laughter at the picture of false innocence in front of him.

Michael took the throw pillow and smacked Marcus upside the head with it. "Funny, _figlio mio,_ funny! Now, if you're done acting the clown, get your kiester into that shower." Michael then too started laughing.

Marcus began laughing as well. "You don't have to tell me again. I saw a real water shower in there. I haven't been able to indulge in a real water shower in years. You'll probably have to pry me out with a crow bar before I use the Station's entire supply of hot water!" Marcus said as he got up and walked towards what would be his room during the courtship.

When the sound of the shower running could be heard, Zack sobered and turned to the Chief. "So, just how bad is it really, boss?"

Michael sighed and unceremoniously sprawled on couch. "I don't really know yet, kid. My people on Minbar haven't all gotten back to me yet. But one thing is for sure. Shakiri already knows about the War Council this morning and is already digging for dirt."

"Neroon is _Shai Alyt_, _Minsa'hat_ (Clan Leader), and _Satai_, all rolled into one. He officially may not hold the old titles, but Minbari Warriors and the Council of Clans have long memories. He's also allied himself pretty close to "Delenn" and her supposed supporters. He's pretty much been untouchable from the Minbari political aspect. And Shakiri knows he'd never be able to beat him in a Ritual Challenge."

"But now the jackass has a weakness in his armor. And that weakness is Marcus. Shakiri will go after him in any way that he can. And that will cause a huge shit load of problems. I'm going to need everyone on this one Zack. I'm going to need every one of mine and every one of yours, kid. If Shakiri does what I think he will, and if he's really allied to who my people think he is - that is if they're really still around - the Shadows will be the least of our worries. Hell, we won't need to worry about them. If Shakiri wins this one and it's all true, we and the rest of the old League, will all already be dead."

Zack nodded thoughtfully. "I'll contact my captains in the Outfit right after we're done here. Where do you want our people to hold the summit?"

"Same place as always. There are some things that traditions are good for. I'll contact my Capos at the same time you get your boys on line. Have it set up for two Standard days from now. We should have all the info by then," Michael answered.

"Do we need to get the Skipper in on this one?" Zack asked.

"Hell no! Don't haul in John unless we have absolutely no choice. This is going to get Hell's Kitchen dirty Zack, and John needs to stay squeaky clean or we lose all credibility back home. He needs plausible deniability on this one," the Chief answered. "Besides, HIS people are a hell of a lot more trigger happy than ours, and I HATE his father's diplomatic webmasters. That, and the fact that he has both Bester and Byron by the short and curlies scares the living fuck out of me."

Zack snorted. "You and me both boss, you and me both. Will Delenn be of any use?"

The Chief smirked derisively. "Since when has she really been? You know that Delenn has been nothing but a pawn to her mother, Dukhat, Jeff and now John. And you damned well know that Delenn's mother and her Sisterhood is the real power behind the Religious Caste again. Delenn has been nothing but a pawn with delusions of grandeur her entire life."

"Jeff told us both about the war for power he and his Seconds fought against that old battle-axe from the Sisterhood. He told me just how much it cost him to win that war, too." Michael sighed. "Thank God that he left his entire folio for John! The Skipper's gonna need all the ammo he can get if and when this mess settles down and the ISA really tries to get off the ground."

Zack nodded his agreement. "O.K., that answers that. Now, what the hell do we do about Neroon's "baby killer" image back home?"

Michael let his head fall back onto the cushions and groaned.

* * *

Neroon was still chuckling from his talk with Sheridan when he reached his quarters. Neroon walked into his quarters to find a slew of deliveries awaiting him, along with an irate Chief Aide.

"You're late!" barked out Martag.

Neroon groaned. If he didn't truly believe that Marcus was his soul mate, he would have called everything off at that moment. _"Well, here we go again!"_ thought the harassed _Shai Alyt._


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Decorum, Vows and Honor

Author: Third Charm

Fandom: Babylon 5

Pairings: Marcus/Neroon.

Story Type: Romantic Comedy, Drama

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and all subsequent major characters, plots, and ideas are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Inc. and Warner Bros. The following story was written only for the purposes of entertainment. No income had been made.

Warnings: _**VERY, VERY**_ AU (As in canon is just a guideline folks!) and AT, not beta read, ATL death of a canon character, profanity, slash and erotic episodes.

Spoilers: You name; it's in there.

Summary: This is a sequel "Family, Families, and "Families". And now the fat's REALLY in the fire!

Acknowledgments: I must thank ckl for taking the time to beta read this story.

Author's Note: 1 Earth year equals 0.74 Minbari cycles in this story. The Minbari words and phrases were found at the "JumpNow" web site in John Hightower's Minbari dictionary. The Italian came from badly remembered high school lessons.

* * *

Decorum, Vows and Honor

Marcus had just finished his shower when the barber arrived. He'd come out of his room wrapped in a bathrobe and towel only to see that Zack had left and that the Chief was still seated on the couch and reading a report on a data pad. He also saw that a portable barber's chair was not only set up in the living room but was also well manned by not just one, but two barbers. Marcus smirked at the sight. Apparently, Michael still didn't trust him to not run. All though, just how these two could stop him was the more interesting question. To the Ranger's further amusement, the older barber was as much the quintessential mafia stereotype barber as the tailor was the mafia stereotype for his profession. Marcus chuckled inwardly and began wondering if he had somehow fallen into bad mob vid. Oh, God help him if "whacking" ever came up in the conversation; he'd never be able to control the hysterical laughter!

As he was ushered into the chair by the stern, elderly and proudly Italian gentleman and his slightly younger assistant, Marcus had to continue to suppress the mad urge to laugh at the situation he found himself in. Forget about the bad mob vid; he had to be on a bad acid trip! Bloody hell! There was no way anybody would make a vid like this, nor was there a possibility that any of this could really be his life! Yeah, a bad acid trip, that's what this situation was! Any minute now he'd wake up in medlab and have Steven tell him that he'd been mickied, or ruffied, or just plain drugged out by one of his contacts. There was no way this Twilight Zone of a day was really happening!

There was no way he'd literally fallen head over heals for a man – and he'd never even had an inkling that he was bi, let alone gay before that moment - who'd literally almost beaten him to death a few short months ago after just one bloody date, but somehow he had. It wasn't any ordinary man either. Oh no, Marcus couldn't do anything by halves! The man in question was Neroon, former _Satai _of the Minbari and now new _Shai Alyt_ of the Warrior Caste. He was also the most hated Minibari Warrior in Human space. He couldn't have accepted a marriage proposal from the Warrior that same night and then fallen into bed with him, yet he had. Or had it been the other way around? Well, he had done it no matter the order of events; he had the hickies to prove it!

The hysteria started welling up again as the rest of the day finally caught up with him. Marcus ruthlessly squelched it down. There was no way he could lose it in front of these strangers. The poor Ranger barely held it together as the waterfall of recent memories hit him.

After that dream-like night, Marcus had been found in said man's bed the next morning by his and Neroon's best friends, been forced to lie to the rest of his friends, not to mention superior officers, and concoct one hell of a cover-up of their "indiscretion" at the last minute due to the current war effort, politics, the extremely conservative Minbari society and the returning conservativeness to Human society. Oh, and of course, he couldn't forget that Minbari madman named Shakiri. He'd then been forced to go through the most detailed and humiliating Human/Minbari sex ed. lecture ever devised, after which he'd continued to lie to his superior officers and friends. This had been followed by an oh so lovely shopping trip where he'd almost been mobbed by the Zocalo crowd, lied some more and been lectured on dating safety by total stranger. He'd escaped that hell only to be forced to move from the only place he'd been able to call home since Arisia was destroyed and found out that a Mafia Princess and the most feared pike Master in the entire Minbari Federation were going to be his chaperones for the foreseeable future.

But the shocks just didn't stop there, oh no. They just kept coming and coming! He'd also been "adopted" by the Station Chief, who just happened to be the European _Capo Crimini_ or "Boss of Bosses" in that same day. And if any of what he'd overheard Michael and Zack talking about while they thought he was showering was true, Zack was his North American counterpart; the so-called, "Syndicate Chairman". Marcus was in shock at that knowledge. The two men most responsible for the safety of Babylon 5 and the elimination of the criminal element on board were in actuality the ones who controlled it. Oh, Marcus had long suspected Michael of sharing more than just a last name with the most powerful crime family in Human space, but to know that he ran it, well, that was a different matter all together.

Zack, on the other hand, well, HIM he'd never even suspected. Now THAT had him rather upset with himself. What kind of operative was he when he could be taken in by that, "hey, don't look at me, I'm just an American city kid that wants to go home" attitude? And to miss someone of Zack's age in such a position! Marcus shuddered inwardly. He had a lot, and he meant A LOT of blood on his hands, but for Zack to make it to the top of the North American Syndicate or "Outfit", as they called themselves, at his age, well, Marcus was nauseous just thinking about it. Then there was the other little matter he was now suspecting to be true - and God and Valen, but he needed to wash out his brain at that thought! It was almost as bad as thinking about his birth parents and/or Will and Angela - and may God rest all their souls - in that way. Oh God, here came the nausea again! The barber pulled Marcus from his thoughts, not to mention the onset of a nervous breakdown, when he began to berate him over the state of his hair.

"Well, young man, I can see that hair care has not been a priority for you. Just look at those split ends! When was the last time you had this mane trimmed? Have you even heard of that magic elixir called conditioner? And please don't tell me you were ever masochistic enough to actually put that drain cleaner the Minbari use to bathe on your HAIR!" the old gent scolded.

The barber's assistant broke into the scolding to add his two cents as he put Marcus's hands in bowls of a warm concoction to soak. "If you think his hair is bad, you should take a look at his hands and nails! Good Lord, I've met miners with smaller calluses! Have you ever heard of combat gloves? When's the last time you did anything about your cuticles? And I know that you chew on your nails! Not just bite, but CHEW, Ranger Cole! Don't even dare try to deny it!" the younger barber practically yelled out in horror.

Marcus flushed in embarrassment and shot the Chief a pleading look. Michael just shook his head, chuckled and said, "You'll get no sympathy from me, kid. There is a fine line between being a busy man with no time for himself and a slob, and YOU have been skating it for quite a while. The Family has rules about decorum, deportment, your self-presentation and honor that you'll have to get used to." Michael smirked. "Besides, if you think Joseph and Vincenso are bad, then you'll be running in shear terror from my Aunt!"

Marcus groaned and was about to bow his head in defeat when the barber yanked it back into place, making him yelp at the unexpected pain. "Stay still, young man, or you will be going to your betrothal dinner looking like a newly shorn sheep!" he scolded again. "And I'm sure that just the type of impression you want to make on your fiancé and his entourage!" the barber scathingly added.

"And you don't know just how close you are," muttered Michael in a vicious tone that was barely above a whisper.

Marcus gasped and flushed again in embarrassment at that ancient double entandre as well as thinly veiled statement. He'd known the Chief would never let him live that morning down, he'd just known it! _"Well, at least he won't lay into me with that lecture he promised with these two here,"_ Marcus thought to himself, only to be sorely disappointed. Not only did the lecture come; it came from an unexpected and truly humiliating source! The barber shot Michael an inquiring look, got a nod from the Chief that made him tighten his already stern features and then smacked Marcus on the back of his head, making him yelp again.

"For shame! For shame, and you a promise keeper! Now, what were you doing out with that Warrior without a chaperone, eh? And just how far did you let him get?" the irate barber yelled and smacked Marcus's stinging scalp again for good measure and got another pained yelp from the Ranger in response.

"Joseph!" the younger of the two, who by default Marcus now knew was Vincenso, tried to butt in. "And why would immediately it be our Ranger's fault, hmm? I would think that brute he's engaged to would be just as much to blame if not more! Lord knows I've heard enough stories about what kind of letch he was during the War. The way I heard it, he went through most of their fleet as well as ours – the ones that lived through being a P.O.W. anyway - before the War was over. If you ask me, our Ranger's too good for him!" he finished with a decisive nod as he started on Marcus's manicure.

Joseph, the senior barber, just ignored his assistant and continued to verbally lay into the poor Ranger as he worked on his hair, tugging it viscously and making Marcus's eyes water in pain, when he wanted to make sure a point stuck. Marcus was flushed crimson in shame and embarrassment, whimpering in pain and choking on his own futile arguments and anger when he finally begged the chief for help with his eyes, truly unable to speak in his mortification. Oh God, but could his life get any more humiliating? And why was Michael letting a total stranger read him the riot act over last night and this morning? The poor Ranger was actually in tears of pain, humiliation and stifled anger by the time Michael waded back into the quagmire.

"Joseph, enough. I think Marcus has learned his lessen," Michael said as he set his data pad down. Then he turned his attention to Marcus, "Haven't you, kid?" he asked in a hard voice.

Marcus knew better than to try and defend himself at this point. He had no allies in this room, and if the Chief was this open in front of the barbers, then they were "his people", and would do what he wanted them to do, believe what he wanted them to believe. There was no way he'd be able to avoid whatever the rest of Michael's retribution was, but if he was very, very lucky maybe he could minimize it.

"Yes, sir," he said in a very contrite voice.

"Good. And for your information, Joseph isn't just my barber. He's blood family on my mother's side. Which makes him an Uncle of sorts to you now. He and Cousin Vincenso have literally had my life in their hands many times over and can be trusted with anything. If any situation goes Nova on you and you can't get a hold of me, contact one of them. Oh, and by the way, if you even THINK about letting Neroon sweet talk you into some "alone time" again, I'll let Joseph give you an up close and personal introduction to his vintage razor strop!" Michael finished with a growl.

Joseph chuckled at that statement as he continued to work. "Lord knows it kept me and my brothers and then you in line!" he said to Michael. "Nice to see that we have a new generation to "pass it on to"."

Marcus went white at the threat. Somehow, he was sure that this elderly looking gentleman could carry it out, too. The poor Ranger shuddered in memory. His biological father had used a belt on both him and Will more than once, and the memories were painful enough, thank you! Marcus did NOT want to find out just how well a razor strop would measure up to them. He really, really didn't need to relive the consequences of his misspent youth!

"I won't let Neroon talk me into anything that like that again. I give you my word," the poor Ranger finally managed to get out.

The extremely unhealthy and pasty look that Marcus was sporting made Michael take pity on him. The Chief nodded and said, "I believe you kid, and I know that this morning happened because Neroon was all gung ho about those insane rituals of theirs, not to mention that the cradle robbing bastard pulled one of the lowest and oldest stunts in the book by taking advantage of you in very vulnerable moment. That Casanova want-to-be went for the jugular right at the moment when the light bulb in regards to both your sexuality and emotional needs went off!"

Marcus blushed crimson and tried to stutter out a response but Michael cut him off. "It's all right, kid. I believed both you and pike boy when you said that nothing truly serious happened. The Chief sighed and shook his head. "But I'm not blind or a fool either, Marcus. You know Minbari society and their mores better than any other human on the Station. You knew that you could have said no outright, or asked Neroon to hold off on the ritual until it was a more appropriate time. I also know you let it happen because you really have felt emotionally isolated and alone on this barge; that this was probably the first time you actually felt truly connected to another being since the destruction of Arisia, – and that the bastard took advantage of that, too – and kid, part of that isolation was your own fault. Well, now that part is going to change, and so will the actual "being alone" part."

Micheal sighed before going on, "I'm sorry to say this, but you'll have bodyguards for your safety and aides for your work with the Rangers from now on. And before you start giving me a hard time, this is coming down from the chain of command. The Skipper himself asked for the bodyguards since having the _Shai Alyt's_ new fiancé offed on his Station would put him in a rather nasty political bind and fast. As for the aides, Delenn asked for them since even she can see that the guards will have you standing out like a sore thumb. Besides, we both know that you'll need them because of me, too. AND they'll be a good deterrent to that spikey–headed jackass who calls himself a Warrior – that you had the bad taste to fall for – until your chaperones get here," the Chief finished with a smirk.

Marcus managed to ignore Michael's latest swipe at Neroon as he sighed and nodded in resignation. He'd been expecting this proclamation since he got the orders to move. The Ranger took a deep, steadying breath and then somehow found the courage to try and mend some of his tattered dignity.

"As expected. But please, Michael, can we stop with the recriminations over this morning's debacle? I'm an adult who by your own admission is an intelligent enough operative to survive both EFI and the Rangers; well, I've survived the Rangers so far. I know how important the courtship going off without a hitch is to the Army of Light, to the peace of the Federation, to the business interests of the Family and to the security of the EA. This isn't just a love match anymore. I know that, and I will do everything in my power to see that it is not side tracked again," he said with as much dignity and sincerity as he could muster after having all his current dirty linens aired so publicly.

Michael gave Marcus a hard look. "How much do you know?" he asked.

Marcus took a good look at the older man, swallowed hard and hoped he could bluff his way out of this. If the Chief suspected that he had kept information back from the Captain, he'd be up on some serious charges. On the other hand, if the Chief suspected that he'd eavesdropped, then there would be personal hell to pay. One did not get caught eavesdropping on two Mafia Dons and expect to live. But thankfully to the now high profile courtship, Michael couldn't "dispose" of him just yet. Therefore, he would be taught a very, very memorable and very, very PAINFUL lesson instead, and Marcus knew it.

Bleeding, buggering bloody hell! Oh yes, but the Ranger bloody well knew he was between the proverbial rock and hard place. Marcus easily fell into the crisis control thought processes that EFI had literally programmed into his mind. He very quickly compiled the scant rumors he had truly heard with what he had overheard from the Chief and Zack, analyzed the data as best he could, drew his theory and came up with a story. Marcus then sent a prayer to all the known deities, looked the older man directly in the eyes and lied through his teeth for the umpteenth time that day.

"Not much, I don't think. There are rumors on Minbar about Shakiri still holding on to the weapons his pet Death Walker had created. There are rumors on the Rim that the Shadows have servants within the Federation itself, servants that are being protected by the Wind Swords. There are rumors that certain EA business interests are taking a too strong an interest in Minbari politics and there are rumors that certain political factions in EarthDome are gearing up for another genocidal war aimed at humanity. None of my people have brought me any hard proof of anything though, nothing I could take to _Entil'zha_ Delenn or the Captain. It's right bloody galling to have all of these nebulous rumors and suspicions and no proof."

Marcus huffed in real frustration as the chessboard of his mind began to populate itself. "And what's even worse is the knowledge that I can't discuss them with my superiors because they're such political Claymores. If the Shadows, or for that matter, any of our other oppositions' – and you can pick your favorite here – teeps even got an inkling that either of them had heard any of these rumors but had no proof. Me, I'm expendable, but them …" Marcus interrupted himself as a new piece was added to the chessboard. A White pawn had just been transformed into a Queen, and HE was that pawn.

Marcus wanted to slap himself, but didn't dare move for fear of Joseph's reprisal. Instead he groaned and cried out, "Ah bloody hell! Was expendable; I'm one of the fucking Claymores now too! God damn it, why didn't I see …" the Ranger growled and let his comment die off with a shake of his head that immediately earned him a curse and a slap.

Michael grimaced when Marcus was done speaking. He'd seen that same thing. Both Marcus and Michael were then silent for some time. Finally, after seeming to have some kind of decision, Michael spoke.

"Marcus, I'd wanted to keep your place in the Family ceremonial, to have you named as my son, but not my heir. It doesn't look like that can happen now. Do you know what that means?" he asked.

Marcus smiled sadly and nodded. "The War and the Shadows have both made for some strange bedfellows, Michael. It's amazing just how much can be overlooked when a race is fighting for survival. I wasn't stupid enough to inquire about any of the non-EFI, or EFI, for that matter, personnel that I worked with back then. But I wasn't naive, deaf or blind either. I'm damned sure I've worked with your associates in the past. I'm bloody well positive I'm working with some of them now as a Ranger. I, well, all the human Rangers really, just conveniently leave those bits out of our reports to Delenn. She may have been _Satai_ during the War, but she still hasn't figured out just how dirty an affair war is."

Michael nodded. Everything Marcus had said was true, but that didn't mean he understood what it meant to be "made" into the Family. "O.K., you've had experience with us. But what do you know about the history of the "Old Families"?" he asked.

Marcus felt his stomach clench. Oh yes, he knew about them. He knew about them from EFI and from his long broken dreams of a real education.

He took a deep breath and said, "EFI taught me a great deal I never wanted to know, Michael. Besides, I was actually getting ready to go to university when the War happened. One of the classes that had been part of my prepatory work was "Class Structure, and the Effects of the Underclass on Modern Societal Evolution". It was either that one or "Space and its Effects on Modern Psychology" for my psych elective, and I hated the professor teaching "Space and Psych" so I took the former. It covered the history of, well to put it bluntly, organized crime and it's then current effects on human society. Some of the information was probably wrong and/or out of date even back then, but I think I understand what it will mean."

Michael nodded sadly. Marcus looked and sounded like so many of his generation to the Chief. They were all young men and women who'd been broken and scarred, who's dreams had been ripped from them by the horrors they had faced.

"Yeah, I think you do know," he said softly. Michael sighed and went on, "There's just one thing, Marcus, that's probably different about the Family than what you were taught in school or heard about in the service. We hold to the old ways, the old traditions in many things. For you they would definitely be in play. You're not one of the blood and will be named as heir to the highest seat in the Family. That will cost you. There will be a test of your loyalty, a test of your honor. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Marcus paled as he nodded his head. He finally answered in a low voice, "Yes. Blood spilled and The Five Vows."


End file.
